O- 


STORIES  BY  ENGLISH  AUTHORS 


THE  ORIENT 


D  Kii'i  i\r, 


STORIES  BY 
ENGLISH  AUTHORS 


THE  ORIENT 


THE     MAN     WHO     WOULD     BE 

KING 

TAJIMA 

A  CHINESE  GIRL  GRADUATE  . 
THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE  . 
KING  BILLY  OF  BALLARAT  .  . 
THY  HEART'S  DESIRE 


BY  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

B"  MlSS  MlTFORD 

BY  R.  K.  DOUGLAS 
BY  MARY  BZAUMONT 
BY  MORLEY  ROBERTS 
BY  NETTA  SYRETT 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1896 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


PUBLISHERS'   NOTE 

THE  stories  in  this  volume  are  published 
by  arrangement  with  the  authors  or  their 
representatives,  and  all  rights  are  reserved. 
Acknowledgments  are  due  Messrs.  Macmillan 
&  Co.  for  permission  to  use  Mr.  Kipling's 
story,  "The  Man  Who  Would  be  King;" 
Messrs.  J.  M.  Dent  &  Co.  for  Miss  Beau- 
mont's story,  "The  Revenge  of  Her  Race," 
one  of  the  stories  in  the  volume  "A  Ringby 
Lass,"  and  Messrs.  Copeland  &  Day  for  the 
right  to  reprint  Miss  Netta  Syrett's  story, 
"Thy  Heart's  Desire,"  published  originally  in 
"The  Yellow  Book." 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  MAN  WHO  WOULD  BE  KING.  .  .Rudyard  Kipling.  9 

TAJIMA Miss  Mitford 67 

A  CHINESE  GIRL  GRADUATE R.  K.  Douglas ...  79 

THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE Mary  Beaumont. .  129 

KING  BILLY  OF  BALLARAT Morley  Roberts  . .  145 

THY  HEART'S  DESIRE Netta  Syrett 157 


THE   MAN  WHO  WOULD   BE 
KING 

BY 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 


THE  MAN  WHO  WOULD  BE  KING 

Brother  to  a  Prince  and  fellow  to  a  beggar  if  he  be  found 
worthy 

BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING 

THE  Law,  as  quoted,  lays  down  a  fair  conduct 
of  life,  and  one  not  easy  to  follow.  I  have 
been  fellow  to  a  beggar  again  and  again  under 
circumstances  which  prevented  either  of  us  finding 
out  whether  the  other  was  worthy.  I  have  still  to 
be  brother  to  a  Prince,  though  I  once  came  near 
to  kinship  with  what  might  have  been  a  veritable 
King,  and  was  promised  the  reversion  of  a  King- 
dom— army,  law-courts,  revenue,  and  policy  all 
complete.  But,  to-day,  I  greatly  fear  that  my 
King  is  dead,  and  if  I  want  a  crown  I  must  go 
hunt  it  for  myself. 

The  beginning  of  everything  was  in  a  railway- 
train  upon  the  road  to  Mhow  from  Ajmir.  There 
had  been  a  Deficit  in  the  Budget,  which  necessi- 
tated travelling,  not  Second-class,  which  is  only  half 
as  dear  as  First-class,  but  by  Intermediate,  which 
is  very  awful  indeed.  There  are  no  cushions  in 
the  Intermediate  class,  and  the  population  are 
either  Intermediate,  which  is  Eurasian,  or  native, 


12  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

which  for  a  long  night  journey  is  nasty,  or  Loafer, 
which  is  amusing  though  intoxicated.  Interme- 
diates do  not  buy  from  refreshment-rooms.  They 
carry  their  food  in  bundles  and  pots,  and  buy 
sweets  from  the  native  sweetmeat-sellers,  and  drink 
the  roadside  water.  That  is  why  in  hot  weather 
Intermediates  are  taken  out  of  the  carriages  dead, 
and  in  all  weathers  are  most  properly  looked  down 
upon. 

My  particular  Intermediate  happened  to  be 
empty  till  I  reached  Nasirabad,  when  a  big  black- 
browed  gentleman  in  shirt-sleeves  entered,  and, 
following  the  custom  of  Intermediates,  passed  the 
time  of  day.  He  was  a  wanderer  and  a  vagabond 
like  myself,  but  with  an  educated  taste  for  whisky. 
He  told  tales  of  things  he  had  seen  and  done,  of 
out-of-the-way  corners  of  the  Empire  into  which 
he  had  penetrated,  and  of  adventures  in  which  he 
risked  his  life  for  a  few  days'  food. 

"  If  India  was  filled  with  men  like  you  and  me, 
not  knowing  more  than  the  crows  where  they  'd 
get  their  next  day's  rations,  it  is  n't  seventy  millions 
of  revenue  the  land  would  be  paying — it  's  seven 
hundred  millions,"  said  he ;  and  as  I  looked  at  his 
mouth  and  chin  I  was  disposed  to  agree  with  him. 

We  talked  politics, — the  politics  of  Loaferdom 
that  sees  things  from  the  under  side  where  the  lath 
and  plaster  is  not  smoothed  off, — and  we  talked 
postal  arrangements  because  my  friend  wanted  to 
send  a  telegram  back  from  the  next  station  to 
Ajmir,  the  turning-off  place  from  the  Bombay  to  the 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  13 

Mhow  line  as  you  travel  westward.  My  friend  had 
no  money  beyond  eight  annas  which  he  wanted  for 
dinner,  and  I  had  no  money  at  all,  owing  to  the 
hitch  in  the  Budget  before  mentioned.  Further,  I 
was  going  into  a  wilderness  where,  though  I  should 
resume  touch  with  the  Treasury,  there  were  no  tele- 
graph offices.  I  was,  therefore,  unable  to  help  him 
in  any  way. 

"  We  might  threaten  a  Station-master,  and  make 
him  send  a  wire  on  tick,"  said  my  friend,  "  but 
that  'd  mean  inquiries  for  you  and  for  me,  and 
/  've  got  my  hands  full  these  days.  Did  you  say 
you  were  travelling  back  along  this  line  within  any 
days?" 

"  Within  ten,"  I  said. 

"Can't  you  make  it  eight?"  said  he.  "Mine 
is  rather  urgent  business." 

"  I  can  send  your  telegram  within  ten  days  if 
that  will  serve  you,"  I  said. 

"  I  could  n't  trust  the  wire  to  fetch  him,  now  I 
think  of  it.  It  's  this  way.  He  leaves  Delhi  on 
the  23d  for  Bombay.  That  means  he  '11  be  run- 
ning through  Ajmir  about  the  night  of  the  23d." 

"  But  I  'm  going  into  the  Indian  Desert,"  I 
explained. 

"  Well  and  good,"  said  he.  "  You  '11  be  chang- 
ing at  Marwar  Junction  to  get  into  Jodhpore  ter- 
ritory,— you  must  do  that, — and  he  '11  be  coming 
through  Marwar  Junction  in  the  early  morning  of 
the  24th  by  the  Bombay  Mail.  Can  you  be  at 
Marwar  Junction  on  that  time?  'T  won't  be  in- 


14  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

conveniencing  you,  because  I  know  that  there  's 
precious  few  pickings  to  be  got  out  of  these  Cen- 
tral India  States — even  though  you  pretend  to  be 
correspondent  of  the  '  Backwoodsman.' " 

"  Have  you  ever  tried  that  trick?  "  I  asked. 

"  Again  and  again,  but  the  Residents  find  you 
out,  and  then  you  get  escorted  to  the  Border  be- 
fore you  've  time  to  get  your  knife  into  them.  But 
about  my  friend  here.  I  must  give  him  a  word  o' 
mouth  to  tell  him  what  's  come  to  me,  or  else  he 
won't  know  where  to  go.  I  would  take  it  more 
than  kind  of  you  if  you  was  to  come  out  of  Cen- 
tral India  in  time  to  catch  him  at  Marwar  Junc- 
tion, and  say  to  him,  '  He  has  gone  South  for  the 
week.'  He  '11  know  what  that  means.  He  's  a 
big  man  with  a  red  beard,  and  a  great  swell  he  is. 
You  '11  find  him  sleeping  like  a  gentleman  with  all 
his  luggage  round  him  in  a  Second-class  apartment. 
But  don't  you  be  afraid.  Slip  down  the  window 
and  say,  '  He  has  gone  South  for  the  week,'  and 
he  '11  tumble.  It 's  only  cutting  your  time  of  stay 
in  those  parts  by  two  days.  I  ask  you  as  a 
stranger — going  to  the  West,"  he  said,  with 
emphasis. 

"Where  have  you  come  from?"  said  I. 

"  From  the  East,"  said  he,  "  and  I  am  hoping 
that  you  will  give  him  the  message  on  the  Square 
— for  the  sake  of  my  Mother  as  well  as  your 
own." 

Englishmen  are  not  usually  softened  by  appeals 
to  the  memory  of  their  mothers;  but  for  certain 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  15 

reasons,  which  will  be  fully  apparent,  I  saw  fit  to 
agree. 

"  It 's  more  than  a  little  matter,"  said  he,  "  and 
that 's  why  I  asked  you  to  do  it — and  now  I  know 
chat  I  can  depend  on  you  doing  it.  A  Second- 
class  carriage  at  Marwar  Junction,  and  a  red- 
haired  man  asleep  in  it.  You  '11  be  sure  to 
remember.  I  get  out  at  the  next  station,  and  I 
must  hold  on  there  till  he  comes  or  sends  me  what 
I  want." 

"  I  '11  give  the  message  if  I  catch  him,"  I  said, 
"  and  for  the  sake  of  your  Mother  as  well  as  mine 
I  '11  give  you  a  word  of  advice.  Don't  try  to  run 
the  Central  India  States  just  now  as  the  corre- 
spondent of  the  '  Backwoodsman.'  There  's  a 
real  one  knocking  about  here,  and  it  might  lead 
to  trouble." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  he,  simply ;  "  and  when  will 
the  swine  be  gone?  I  can't  starve  because  he  's 
ruining  my  work.  I  wanted  to  get  hold  of  the  De- 
gumber  Rajah  down  here  about  his  father's  widow, 
and  give  him  a  jump." 

"  What  did  he  do  to  his  father's  widow,  then?  " 

"  Filled  her  up  with  red  pepper  and  slippered 
her  to  death  as  she  hung  from  a  beam.  I  found 
that  out  myself,  and  I  'm  the  only  man  that  would 
dare  going  into  the  State  to  get  hush-money  for  it. 
They  '11  try  to  poison  me,  same  as  they  did  in 
Chortumna  when  I  went  on  the  loot  there.  But 
you  '11  give  the  man  at  Marwar  Junction  my  mes- 
sage? " 


1 6  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

He  got  out  at  a  little  roadside  station,  and  I  re- 
flected. I  had  heard,  more  than  once,  of  men  per- 
sonating correspondents  of  newspapers  and  bleed- 
ing small  Native  States  with  threats  of  exposure,  but 
I  had  never  met  any  of  the  caste  before.  They  lead 
a  hard  life,  and  generally  die  with  great  sudden- 
ness. The  Native  States  have  a  wholesome  horror 
of  English  newspapers,  which  may  throw  light  on 
their  peculiar  methods  of  government,  and  do  their 
best  to  choke  correspondents  with  champagne,  or 
drive  them  out  of  their  mind  with  four-in-hand 
barouches.  They  do  not  understand  that  nobody 
cares  a  straw  for  the  internal  administration  of 
Native  States  so  long  as  oppression  and  crime  are 
kept  within  decent  limits,  and  the  ruler  is  not 
drugged,  drunk,  or  diseased  from  one  end  of  the 
year  to  the  other.  They  are  the  dark  places  of  the 
earth,  full  of  unimaginable  cruelty,  touching  the 
Railway  and  the  Telegraph  on  one  side,  and,  on 
the  other,  the  days  of  Harun-al-Raschid.  When 
I  left  the  train  I  did  business  with  divers  Kings, 
and  in  eight  days  passed  through  many  changes  of 
life.  Sometimes  I  wore  dress-clothes  and  con- 
sorted with  Princes  and  Politicals,  drinking  from 
crystal  and  eating  from  silver.  Sometimes  I  lay 
out  upon  the  ground  and  devoured  what  I  could 
get,  from  a  plate  made  of  leaves,  and  drank  the 
running  water,  and  slept  under  the  same  rug  as  my 
servant.  It  was  all  in  the  day's  work. 

Then  I  headed  for  the  Great  Indian  Desert 
upon  the  proper  date,  as  I  had  promised,  and  the 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  17 

night  Mail  set  me  down  at  Marwar  Junction, 
where  a  funny  little,  happy-go-lucky,  native-man- 
aged railway  runs  to  Jodhpore.  The  Bombay 
Mail  from  Delhi  makes  a  short  halt  at  Marwar. 
She  arrived  as  I  got  in,  and  I  had  just  time  to 
hurry  to  her  platform  and  go  down  the  carriages. 
There  was  only  one  Second-class  on  the  train.  I 
slipped  the  window  and  looked  down  upon  a  flam- 
ing-red beard,  half  covered  by  a  railway-rug. 
That  was  my  man,  fast  asleep,  and  I  dug  him 
gently  in  the  ribs.  He  woke  with  a  grunt,  and  I 
saw  his  face  in  the  light  of  the  lamps.  It  was  a 
great  and  shining  face. 

"Tickets  again?  "  said  he. 

"  No,"  said  I.  "  I  am  to  tell  you  that  he  is  gone 
South  for  the  week.  He  has  gone  South  for  the 
week!" 

The  train  had  begun  to  move  out.  The  red 
man  rubbed  his  eyes.  "  He  has  gone  South  for 
the  week,"  he  repeated.  "  Now  that  's  just  like 
his  impidence.  Did  he  say  that  I  was  to  give  you 
anything?  'Cause  I  won't." 

"He  did  n't,"  I  said,  and  dropped  away,  and 
watched  the  red  lights  die  out  in  the  dark.  It 
was  horribly  cold  because  the  wind  was  blowing 
off  the  sands.  I  climbed  into  my  own  train — not  an 
Intermediate  carriage  this  time — and  went  to  sleep. 

If  the  man  with  the  beard  had  given  me  a  rupee 
I  should  have  kept  it  as  a  memento  of  a  rather 
curious  affair.  But  the  consciousness  of  having 
done  my  duty  was  my  only  reward. 


1 8  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

Later  on  I  reflected  that  two  gentlemen  like  my 
friends  could  not  do  any  good  if  they  foregathered 
and  personated  correspondents  of  newspapers,  and 
might,  if  they  blackmailed  one  of  the  little  rat- 
trap  States  of  Central  India  or  Southern  Rajputana, 
get  themselves  into  serious  difficulties.  I  therefore 
took  some  trouble  to  describe  them  as  accurately 
as  I  could  remember  to  people  who  would  be  in- 
terested in  deporting  them ;  and  succeeded,  so  I 
was  later  informed,  in  having  them  headed  back 
from  the  Degumber  borders. 

Then  I  became  respectable,  and  returned  to  an 
office  where  there  were  no  Kings  and  no  incidents 
outside  the  daily  manufacture  of  a  newspaper.  A 
newspaper  office  seems  to  attract  every  conceiva- 
ble sort  of  person,  to  the  prejudice  of  discipline. 
Zenana-mission  ladies  arrive,  and  beg  that  the 
Editor  will  instantly  abandon  all  his  duties  to  de- 
scribe a  Christian  prize-giving  in  a  back  slum  of  a 
perfectly  inaccessible  village ;  Colonels  who  have 
been  overpassed  for  command  sit  down  and  sketch 
the  outline  of  a  series  of  ten,  twelve,  or  twenty-four 
leading  articles  on  Seniority  versus  Selection  ;  mis- 
sionaries wish  to  know  why  they  have  not  been 
permitted  to  escape  from  their  regular  vehicles  of 
abuse,  and  swear  at  a  brother  missionary  under 
special  patronage  of  the  editorial  We;  stranded 
theatrical  companies  troop  up  to  explain  that  they 
cannot  pay  for  their  advertisements,  but  on  their 
return  from  New  Zealand  or  Tahiti  will  do  so  with 
interest;  inventors  of  patent  punka-pulling  ma- 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  19 

chines,  carriage  couplings,  and  unbreakable  swords 
and  axletrees  call  with  specifications  in  their 
pockets  and  hours  at  their  disposal ;  tea  companies 
enter  and  elaborate  their  prospectuses  with  the 
office  pens ;  secretaries  of  ball  committees  clamour 
to  have  the  glories  of  their  last  dance  more  fully 
described;  strange  ladies  rustle  in  and  say,  "I 
want  a  hundred  lady's  cards  printed  at  once, 
please,"  which  is  manifestly  part  of  an  Editor's 
duty ;  and  every  dissolute  ruffian  that  ever  tramped 
the  Grand  Trunk  Road  makes  it  his  business  to 
ask  for  employment  as  a  proof-reader.  And,  all 
the  time,  the  telephone-bell  is  ringing  madly, 
and  Kings  are  being  killed  on  the  Continent, 
and  Empires  are  saying,  "  You  're  another,"  and 
Mister  Gladstone  is  calling  down  brimstone  upon 
the  British  Dominions,  and  the  little  black  copy- 
boys  are  whining,  "  kaa-pi  chay-ha-yeh  "  ("  Copy 
wanted  "),  like  tired  bees,  and  most  of  the  paper  is 
as  blank  as  Modred's  shield. 

But  that  is  the  amusing  part  of  the  year.  There 
are  six  other  months  when  none  ever  come  to  call, 
and  the  thermometer  walks  inch  by  inch  up  to  the 
top  of  the  glass,  and  the  office  is  darkened  to  just 
above  reading-light,  and  the  press-machines  are 
red-hot  of  touch,  and  nobody  writes  anything  but 
accounts  of  amusements  in  the  Hill-stations  or 
obituary  notices.  Then  the  telephone  becomes  a 
tinkling  terror,  because  it  tells  you  of  the  sudden 
deaths  of  men  and  women  that  you  knew  in- 
timately, and  the  prickly  heat  covers  you  with  a 


20  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

garment,  and  you  sit  down  and  write :  "  A  slight 
increase  of  sickness  is  reported  from  the  Khuda 
Janta  Khan  District.  The  outbreak  is  purely 
sporadic  in  its  nature,  and,  thanks  to  the  energetic 
efforts  of  the  District  authorities,  is  now  almost  at 
an  end.  It  is,  however,  with  deep  regret  we  record 
the  death,"  etc. 

Then  the  sickness  really  breaks  out,  and  the  less 
recording  and  reporting  the  better  for  the  peace  of 
the  subscribers.  But  the  Empires  and  the  Kings 
continue  to  divert  themselves  as  selfishly  as  before, 
and  the  Foreman  thinks  that  a  daily  paper  really 
ought  to  come  out  once  in  twenty-four  hours,  and 
all  the  people  at  the  Hill-stations  in  the  middle 
of  their  amusements  say,  "Good  gracious!  why 
can't  the  paper  be  sparkling?  I  'm  sure  there  's 
plenty  going  on  up  here." 

That  is  the  dark  half  of  the  moon,  and,  as  the 
advertisements  say,  "must  be  experienced  to  be 
appreciated." 

It  was  in  that  season,  and  a  remarkably  evil 
season,  that  the  paper  began  running  the  last  issue 
of  the  week  on  Saturday  night,  which  is  to  say  Sun- 
day morning,  after  the  custom  of  a  London  paper. 
This  was  a  great  convenience,  for  immediately 
after  the  paper  was  put  to  bed  the  dawn  would 
lower  the  thermometer  from  96°  to  almost  84°  for 
half  an  hour,  and  in  that  chill — you  have  no  idea 
how  cold  is  84°  on  the  grass  until  you  begin  to 
pray  for  it — a  very  tired  man  could  get  off  to  sleep 
ere  the  heat  roused  him. 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  21 

One  Saturday  night  it  was  my  pleasant  duty  to 
put  the  paper  to  bed  alone.  A  King  or  courtier 
or  a  courtesan  or  a  Community  was  going  to  die 
or  get  a  new  Constitution,  or  do  something  that 
was  important  on  the  other  side  of  the  world,  and 
the  paper  was  to  be  held  open  till  the  latest  possi- 
ble minute  in  order  to  catch  the  telegram. 

It  was  a  pitchy-black  night,  as  stifling  as  a  June 
night  can  be,  and  the  loo,  the  red-hot  wind  from 
the  westward,  was  booming  among  the  tinder-dry 
trees  and  pretending  that  the  rain  was  on  its  heels. 
Now  and  again  a  spot  of  almost  ^boiling  water 
would  fall  on  the  dust  with  the  flop  of  a  frog,  but 
all  our  weary  world  knew  that  was  only  pretence. 
It  was  a  shade  cooler  in  the  press-room  than  the 
office,  so  I  sat  there,  while  the  type  ticked  and 
clicked,  and  the  night-jars  hooted  at  the  windows, 
and  the  all  but  naked  compositors  wiped  the  sweat 
from  their  foreheads  and  called  for  water.  The 
thing  that  was  keeping  us  back,  whatever  it  was, 
would  not  come  off,  though  the  loo  dropped  and 
the  last  type  was  set,  and  the  whole  round  earth 
stood  still  in  the  choking  heat,  with  its  finger  on 
its  lip,  to  wait  the  event.  I  drowsed,  and  wondered 
whether  the  telegraph  was  a  blessing,  and  whether 
this  dying  man,  or  struggling  people,  might  be 
aware  of  the  inconvenience  the  delay  was  causing. 
There  was  no  special  reason  beyond  the  heat  and 
worry  to  make  tension,  but,  as  the  clock-hands 
crept  up  to  three  o'clock  and  the  machines  spun 
their  fly-wheels  two  and  three  times  to  see  that  all 


22  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

was  in  order,  before  I  said  the  word  that  would  set 
them  off,  I  could  have  shrieked  aloud. 

Then  the  roar  and  rattle  of  the  wheels  shivered 
the  quiet  into  little  bits.  I  rose  to  go  away,  but  two 
men  in  white  clothes  stood  in  front  of  me.  The 
first  one  said,  "It  's  him!"  The  second  said, 
"So  it  is!"  And  they  both  laughed  almost  as 
loudly  as  the  machinery  roared,  and  mopped  their 
foreheads.  "We  seed  there  was  a  light  burning 
across  the  road,  and  we  were  sleeping  in  that  ditch 
there  for  coolness,  and  I  said  to  my  friend  here, 
'  The  office  is  open.  Let 's  come  along  and  speak 
to  him  as  turned  us  back  from  the  Degumber 
State,' "  said  the  smaller  of  the  two.  He  was  the 
man  I  had  met  in  the  Mhow  train,  and  his  fellow 
was  the  red-bearded  man  of  Marwar  Junction. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  eyebrows  of  the  one 
or  the  beard  of  the  other. 

I  was  not  pleased,  because  I  wished  to  go  to 
sleep,  not  to  squabble  with  loafers.  "  What  do 
you  want? "  I  asked. 

"Half  an  hour's  talk  with  you,  cool  and  com- 
fortable, in  the  office,"  said  the  red-bearded  man. 
"  We  'd  like  some  drink, — the  Contrack  does  n't 
begin  yet,  Peachey,  so  you  need  n't  look, — but 
what  we  really  want  is  advice.  We  don't  want 
money.  We  ask  you  as  a  favour,  because  we 
found  out  you  did  us  a  bad  turn  about  Degumber 
State." 

I  led  from  the  press-room  to  the  stifling  office 
with  the  maps  on  the  walls,  and  the  red-haired 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  23 

man  rubbed  his  hands.  "  That 's  something  like," 
said  he.  "  This  was  the  proper  shop  to  come  to. 
Now,  Sir,  let  me  introduce  to  you  Brother  Peachey 
Carnehan,  that 's  him,  and  Brother  Daniel  Dravot, 
that  is  me,  and  the  less  said  about  our  professions 
the  better,  for  we  have  been  most  things  in  our 
time— soldier,  sailor,  compositor,  photographer, 
proof-reader,  street-preacher,  and  correspondents 
of  the  '  Backwoodsman '  when  we  thought  the 
paper  wanted  one.  Carnehan  is  sober,  and  so  am 
I.  Look  at  us  first,  and  see  that  's  sure.  It  will 
save  you  cutting  into  my  talk.  We  '11  take  one  of 
your  cigars  apiece,  and  you  shall  see  us  light  up." 

I  watched  the  test.  The  men  were  absolutely 
sober,  so  I  gave  them  each  a  tepid  whisky-and-soda. 

"  Well  and  good,"  said  Carnehan  of  the  eye- 
brows, wiping  the  froth  from  his  moustache.  "  Let 
me  talk  now,  Dan.  We  have  been  all  over  India, 
mostly  on  foot.  We  have  been  boiler-fitters,  en- 
gine-drivers, petty  contractors,  and  all  that,  and 
we  have  decided  that  India  is  n't  big  enough  for 
such  as  us." 

They  certainly  were  too  big  for  the  office. 
Dravot's  beard  seemed  to  fill  half  the  room  and 
Carnehan's  shoulders  the  other  half,  as  they  sat  on 
the  big  table.  Carnehan  continued  :  "  The  coun- 
try is  n't  half  worked  out  because  they  that  gov- 
erns it  won't  let  you  touch  it.  They  spend  all 
their  blessed  time  in  governing  it,  and  you  can't 
lift  a  spade,  nor  chip  a  rock,  nor  look  for  oil,  nor 
anything  like  that,  without  all  the  Government  say- 


24  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

ing,  'Leave  it  alone,  and  let, us  govern.'  There- 
fore, such  as  it  is,  we  will  let  it  alone,  and  go  away 
to  some  other  place  where  a  man  is  n't  crowded 
and  can  come  to  his  own.  We  are  not  little  men, 
and  there  is  nothing  that  we  are  afraid  of  except 
Drink,  and  we  have  signed  a  Contrack  on  that. 
Therefore  we  are  going  away  to  be  Kings." 

"  Kings  in  our  own  right,"  muttered  Dravot. 

"Yes,  of  course,"  I  said.  "You  've  been 
tramping  in  the  sun,  and  it  's  a  very  warm  night, 
and  had  n't  you  better  sleep  over  the  notion? 
Come  to-morrow." 

"  Neither  drunk  nor  sunstruck,"  said  Dravot. 
"We  have  slept  over  the  notion  half  a  year,  and 
require  to  see  Books  and  Atlases,  and  we  have  de- 
cided that  there  is  only  one  place  now  in  the  world 
that  two  strong  men  can  Sa.r-a.-w hack.  They  call 
it  Kafiristan.  By  my  reckoning  it 's  the  top  right- 
hand  corner  of  Afghanistan,  not  more  than  three 
hundred  miles  from  Peshawar.  They  have  two 
and  thirty  heathen  idols  there,  and  we  '11  be  the 
thirty-third  and  fourth.  It  's  a  mountaineous 
country,  the  women  of  those  parts  are  very  beau- 
tiful." 

"  But  that  is  provided  against  in  the  Contrack," 
said  Carnehan.  "  Neither  Woman  nor  Liqu-or, 
Daniel." 

"  And  that 's  all  we  know,  except  that  no  one 
has  gone  there,  and  they  fight,  and  in  any  place 
where  they  fight  a  man  who  knows  how  to  drill 
men  can  always  be  a  King.  We  shall  go  to  those 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  25 

parts  and  say  to  any  King  we  find,  '  D'  you  want 
to  vanquish  your  foes?  '  and  we  will  show  him  how 
to  drill  men  ;  for  that  we  know  better  than  anything 
else.  Then  we  will  subvert  that  King  and  seize  his 
Throne  and  establish  a  Dy-nasty." 

"You  '11  be  cut  to  pieces  before  you  're  fifty 
miles  across  the  Border,"  I  said.  "You  have  to 
travel  through  Afghanistan  to  get  to  that  country. 
It 's  one  mass  of  mountains  and  peaks  and  glaciers, 
and  no  Englishman  has  been  through  it.  The 
people  are  utter  brutes,  and  even  if  you  reached 
them  you  could  n't  do  anything." 

"That  's  more  like,"  said  Carnehan.  "If  you 
could  think  us  a  little  more  mad  we  would  be 
more  pleased.  We  have  come  to  you  to  know 
about  this  country,  to  read  a  book  about  it,  and  to 
be  shown  maps.  We  want  you  to  tell  us  that  we 
are  fools  and  to  show  us  your  books."  He  turned 
to  the  bookcases. 

"Are  you  at  all  in  earnest?  "  I  said. 

"A  little,"  said  Dravot,  sweetly.  "As  big  a 
map  as  you  have  got,  even  if  it  's  all  blank  where 
Kafiristan  is,  and  any  books  you  've  got.  We  can 
read,  though  we  are  n't  very  educated." 

I  uncased  the  big  thirty-two-miles-to-the-inch 
map  of  India  and  two  smaller  Froptier  maps, 
hauled  down  volume  INF-KAN  of  the  "  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica,"  and  the  men  consulted  them. 

"  See  here !  "  said  Dravot,  his  thumb  on  the  map. 
"  Up  to  Jagdallak,  Peachey  and  me  know  the  road. 
We  was  there  with  Roberts's  Army.  We  '11  have 


26  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

to  turn  off  to  the  right  at  Jagdallak  through 
Laghmann  territory.  Then  we  get  among  the 
hills— fourteen  thousand  feet— fifteen  thousand- 
it  will  be  cold  work  there,  but  it  don't  look  very 
far  on  the  map." 

I  handed  him  Wood  on  the  "  Sources  of  the 
Oxus."  Carnehan  was  deep  in  the  "  Encyclo- 
paedia." 

"They  're  a  mixed  lot,"  said  Dravot, reflectively ; 
"  and  it  won't  help  us  to  know  the  names  of  their 
tribes.  The  more  tribes  the  more  they  '11  fight,  and 
the  better  for  us.  From  Jagdallak  to  Ashang. 
H'mm!" 

"  But  all  the  information  about  the  country  is  as 
sketchy  and  inaccurate  as  can  be,"  I  protested. 
"  No  one  knows  anything  about  it  really.  Here 's 
the  file  of  the  '  United  Services'  Institute.'  Read 
what  Bellew  says." 

"  Blow  Bellew ! "  said  Carnehan.  "  Dan,  they  're 
a  stinkin'  lot  of  heathens,  but  this  book  here  says 
they  think  they  're  related  to  us  English." 

I  smoked  while  the  men  poured  over  Raverty, 
Wood,  the  maps,  and  the  "  Encyclopaedia." 

"There  is  no  use  your  waiting,"  said  Dravot, 
politely.  "  It  's  about  four  o'clock  now.  We  '11 
go  before  six  o'clock  if  you  want  to  sleep,  and  we 
won't  steal  any  of  the  papers.  Don't  you  sit  up. 
We  're  two  harmless  lunatics,  and  if  you  come 
to-morrow  evening  down  to  the  Serai  we  '11  say 
good-bye  to  you." 

"  You  are  two  fools,"  I  answered.  "  You  '11  be 
turned  back  at  the  Frontier  or  cut  up  the  minute 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  2J 

you  set  foot  in  Afghanistan.  Do  you  want  any 
money  or  a  recommendation  down-country?  I 
can  help  you  to  the  chance  of  work  next  week." 

"  Next  week  we  shall  be  hard  at  work  ourselves, 
thank  you,"  said  Dravot.  "  It  is  n't  so  easy  being 
a  King  as  it  looks.  When  we  've  got  our  King- 
dom in  going  order  we  '11  let  you  know,  and  you 
can  come  up  and  help  us  to  govern  it." 

"Would  two  lunatics  make  a  Contrack  like 
that?  "  said  Carnehan,  with  subdued  pride,  show- 
ing me  a  greasy  half-sheet  of  notepaper  on  which 
was  written  the  following.  I  copied  it,  then  and 
there,  as  a  curiosity. 

This  Contracx  between  me  and  you  persuing  wit- 
nesseth  in  the  name  of  God — Amen  and  so  forth. 

(One)  That  me  and  you  will  settle  this  matter 
together;  i.e.,  to  be  Kings  of  Kafiri- 
stan. 

( Two]  That  you  and  me  will  not,  while  this 
matter  is  being  settled,  look  at  any 
Liquor,  nor  any  Woman,  black,  white, 
or  brown,  so  as  to  get  mixed  up  with 
one  or  the  other  harmful. 

(Three)  That  we  conduct  ourselves  with  Dig- 
nity and  Discretion,  and  if  one  of  us 
gets  into  trouble  the  other  will  stay 
by  him. 
Signed  by  you  and  me  this  day. 

Peachey  Taliaferro  Carnehan, 

Daniel  Dravot. 

Both  Gentlemen  at  Large. 


28  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

"There  was  no  need  for  the  last  article,"  said 
Carnehan,  blushing  modestly  ;  "  but  it  looks  regu- 
lar. Now  you  know  the  sort  of  men  that  loafers 
are, — we  are  loafers,  Dan,  until  we  get  out  of  In- 
dia,— and  do  you  think  that  we  would  sign  a  Con- 
track  like  that  unless  we  was  in  earnest?  We  have 
kept  away  from  the  two  things  that  make  life  worth 
having." 

"  You  won't  enjoy  your  lives  much  longer  if  you 
are  going  to  try  this  idiotic  adventure.  Don't  set 
the  office  on  fire,"  I  said,  "and  go  away  before 
nine  o'clock." 

I  left  them  still  poring  over  the  maps  and  mak- 
ing notes  on  the  back  of  the  "  Contrack."  "  Be 
sure  to  come  down  to  the  Serai  to-morrow,"  were 
their  parting  words. 

The  Kumharsen  Sera;  is  the  great  foursquare 
sink  of  humanity  where  the  strings  of  camels  and 
horses  from  the  North  load  and  unload.  All  the 
nationalities  of  Central  Asia  may  be  found  there, 
and  most  of  the  folk  of  India  proper.  Balkh  and 
Bokhara  there  meet  Bengal  and  Bombay,  and  try 
to  draw  eye-teeth.  You  can  buy  ponies,  tur- 
quoises, Persian  pussy-cats,  saddle-bags,  fat-tailed 
sheep,  and  musk  in  the  Kumharsen  Serai,  and  get 
many  strange  things  for  nothing.  In  the  afternoon 
I  went  down  to  see  whether  my  friends  intended 
to  keep  their  word  or  were  lying  there  drunk. 

A  priest  attired  in  fragments  of  ribbons  and  rags 
stalked  up  to  me,  gravely  twisting  a  child's  paper 
whirligig.  Behind  him  was  his  servant  bending 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  29 

under  the  load  of  a  crate  of  mud  toys.  The  two 
were  loading  up  two  camels,  and  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Serai  watched  them  with  shrieks  of 
laughter. 

"  The  priest  is  mad,"  said  a  horse-dealer  to  me. 
"  He  is  going  up  to  Kabul  to  sell  toys  to  the  Amir. 
He  will  either  be  raised  to  honour  or  have  his  head 
cut  off.  He  came  in  here  this  morning  and  has 
been  behaving  madly  ever  since." 

"  The  witless  are  under  the  protection  of  God," 
stammered  a  flat-cheeked  Usbeg  in  broken  Hindi. 
"  They  foretell  future  events." 

"Would  they  could  have  foretold  that  my 
caravan  would  have  been  cut  up  by  the  Shinwaris 
almost  within  shadow  of  the  Pass!"  grunted  the 
Eusufzai  agent  of  a  Rajputana  trading-house 
whose  goods  had  been  diverted  into  the  hands  of 
other  robbers  just  across  the  Border,  and  whose 
misfortunes  were  the  laughing-stock  of  the  bazaar. 
"  Ohe,  priest,  whence  come  you  and  whither  do 
you  go  ?  " 

"  From  Roum  have  I  come,"  shouted  the  priest, 
waving  his  whirligig ;  "  from  Roum,  blown  by  the 
breath  of  a  hundred  devils  across  the  'sea!  O 
thieves,  robbers,  liars,  the  blessing  of  Pir  Khan  on 
pigs,  dogs,  and  perjurers!  Who  will  take  the  Pro- 
tected of  God  to  the  North  to  sell  charms  that  are 
never  still  to  the  Amir?  The  camels  shall  not  gall, 
the  sons  shall  not  fall  sick,  and  the  wives  shall  re- 
main faithful  while  they  are  away,  of  the  men  who 
give  me  place  in  their  caravan.  Who  will  assist 


30  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

me  to  slipper  the  King  of  the  Roos  with  a  golden 
slipper  with  a  silver  heel?  The  protection  of  Pir 
Khan  be  upon  his  labours!"  He  spread  out  the 
skirts  of  his  gabardine  and  pirouetted  between  the 
lines  of  tethered  horses. 

"There  starts  a  caravan  from  Peshawar  to 
Kabul  in  twenty  days,  Huzrut"  said  the  Eusufzai 
trader.  "  My  camels  go  therewith.  Do  thou 
also  go  and  bring  us  good  luck." 

"  I  will  go  even  now! "  shouted  the  priest.  "  I 
will  depart  upon  my  winged  camels,  and  be  at 
Peshawar  in  a  day!  Ho!  Hazar  Mir  Khan," 
he  yelled  to  his  servant,  "drive  out  the  camels, 
but  let  me  first  mount  my  own." 

He  leaped  on  the  back  of  his  beast  as  it  knelt, 
and,  turning  round  to  me,  cried,  "  Come  thou  also, 
Sahib,  a  little  along  the  road,  and  I  will  sell  thee 
a  charm — an  amulet  that  shall  make  thee  King  of 
Kafiristan." 

Then  the  light  broke  upon  me,  and  I  followed 
the  two  camels  out  of  the  Serai  till  we  reached 
open  road  and  the  priest  halted. 

"  What  d'  you  think  o'  that?"  said  he  in  English. 
"  Carnehan  can't  talk  their  patter,  so  I  Ve  made 
him  my  servant.  He  makes  a  handsome  servant. 
'T  is  n't  for  nothing  that  I  Ve  been  knocking 
about  the  country  for  fourteen  years.  Did  n't  I 
do  that  talk  neat?  We  '11  hitch  on  to  a  caravan 
at  Peshawar  till  we  get  to  Jagdallak,  and  then 
we  '11  see  if  we  can  get  donkeys  for  our  camels, 
and  strike  into  Kafiristan.  Whirligigs  for  the 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  31 

Amir,  O  Lor'!  Put  your  hand  under  the  camel- 
bags  and  tell  me  what  you  feel." 

I  felt  the  butt  of  a  Martini,  and  another  and 
another. 

"Twenty  of  'em,"  said  Dravot,  placidly. 
"Twenty  of  'em  and  ammunition  to  correspond, 
under  the  whirligigs  and  the  mud  dolls." 

"  Heaven  help  you  if  you  are  caught  with  those 
things!"  I  said.  "A  Martini  is  worth  her  weight 
in  silver  among  the  Pathans." 

"  Fifteen  hundred  rupees  of  capital — every  rupee 
we  could  beg,  borrow,  or  steal — are  invested  on 
these  two  camels,"  said  Dravot.  "  We  won't  get 
caught.  We  're  going  through  the  Khaiber  with 
a  regular  caravan.  Who  'd  touch  a  poor  mad 
priest?" 

"  Have  you  got  everything  you  want?  "  I  asked, 
overcome  with  astonishment. 

"  Not  yet,  but  we  shall  soon.  Give  us  a 
memento  of  your  kindness,  Brother.  You  did  me 
a  service  yesterday,  and  that  time  in  Marwar. 
Half  my  Kingdom  shall  you  have,  as  the  saying 
is."  I  slipped  a  small  charm  compass  from  my 
watch-chain  and  handed  it  up  to  the  priest. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  Dravot,  giving  me  hand  cau- 
tiously. "  It  's  the  last  time  we  '11  shake  hands 
with  an  Englishman  these  many  days.  Shake 
hands  with  him,  Carnehan,"  he  cried,  as  the  second 
camel  passed  me. 

Carnehan  leaned  down  and  shook  hands.  Then 
the  camels  passed  away  along  the  dusty  road, 'and 


32  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

I  was  left  alone  to  wonder.  My  eye  could  detect 
no  failure  in  the  disguises.  The  scene  in  the  Serai 
proved  that  they  were  complete  to  the  native 
mind.  There  was  just  the  chance,  therefore,  that 
Carnehan  and  Dravot  would  be  able  to  wander 
through  Afghanistan  without  detection.  But,  be- 
yond, they  would  find  death— certain  and  awful 
death. 

Ten  days  later  a  native  correspondent,  giving  me 
the  news  of  the  day  from  Peshawar,  wound  up  his 
letter  with :  "  There  has  been  much  laughter  here 
on  account  of  a  certain  mad  priest  who  is  going  in 
his  estimation  to  sell  petty  gauds  and  insignificant 
trinkets  which  he  ascribes  as  great  charms  to 
H.  H.  the  Amir  of  Bokhara.  He  passed  through 
Peshawar  and  associated  himself  to  the  Second 
Summer  caravan  that  goes  to  Kabul.  The 
merchants  are  pleased  because  through  supersti- 
tion they  imagine  that  such  mad  fellows  bring 
good  fortune." 

The  two,  then,  were  beyond  the  Border.  I 
would  have  prayed  for  them,  but  that  night  a 
real  King  died  in  Europe,  and  demanded  an 
obituary  notice. 

The  wheel  of  the  world  swings  through  the  same 
phases  again  and  again.  Summer  passed  and 
winter  thereafter,  and  came  and  passed  again. 
The  daily  paper  continued  and  I  with  it,  and 
upon  the  third  summer  there  fell  a  hot  night,  a 
night  issue,  and  a  strained  waiting  for  something 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  33 

to  be  telegraphed  from  the  other  side  of  the  world, 
exactly  as  had  happened  before.  A  few  great  men 
had  died  in  the  past  two  years,  the  machines 
worked  with  more  clatter,  and  some  of  the  trees 
in  the  office  garden  were  a  few  feet  taller.  But 
that  was  all  the  difference. 

I  passed  over  to  the  press-room,  and  went 
through  just  such  a  scene  as  I  have  already  de- 
scribed. The  nervous  tension  was  stronger  than 
it  had  been  two  years  before,  and  I  felt  the  heat 
more  acutely.  At  three  o'clock  I  cried,  "  Print 
off,"  and  turned  to  go,  when  there  crept  to  my 
chair  what  was  left  of  a  man.  He  was  bent  into 
a  circle,  his  head  was  sunk  between  his  shoulders, 
and  he  moved  his  feet  one  over  the  other  like  a 
bear.  I  could  hardly  see  whether  he  walked  or 
crawled — this  rag-wrapped,  whining  cripple  who 
addressed  me  by  name,  crying  that  he  was  come 
back.  "Can  you  give  me  a  drink?"  he  whim- 
pered. "For  the  Lord's  sake,  give  me  a  drink!" 

I  went  back  to  the  office,  the  man  following 
with  groans  of  pain,  and  I  turned  up  the  lamp. 

"  Don't  you  know  me?  "  he  gasped,  dropping 
into  a  chair,  and  he  turned  his  drawn  face,  sur- 
mounted by  a  shock  of  gray  hair,  to  the  light. 

I  looked  at  him  intently.  Once  before  had  I 
seen  eyebrows  that  met  over  the  nose  in  an  inch- 
broad  black  band,  but  for  the  life  of  me  I  could 
not  tell  where. 

"  I  don't  know  you,"  I  said,  handing  him  the 
whisky.  "What  can  I  do  for  you?" 


34  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

He  took  a  gulp  of  the  spirit  raw,  and  shivered 
in  spite  of  the  suffocating  heat. 

"  I  've  come  back,"  he  repeated ;  "  and  I  was 
the  King  of  Kafiristan — me  and  Dravot — crowned 
Kings  we  was!  In  this  office  we  settled  it — you 
setting  there  and  giving  us  the  books.  I  am 
Peachey, — Peachey  Taliaferro  Carnehan, — and 
you  've  been  setting  here  ever  since — O  Lord!" 

I  was  more  than  a  little  astonished,  and  ex- 
pressed my  feelings  accordingly. 

"  It  's  true,"  said  Carnehan,  with  a  dry  cackle, 
nursing  his  feet,  which  were  wrapped  in  rags — 
"true  as  gospel.  Kings  we  were,  with  crowns 
upon  our  heads — me  and  Dravot — poor  Dan — 
oh,  poor,  poor  Dan,  that  would  never  take  advice, 
not  though  I  begged  of  him !  " 

"  Take  the  whisky,"  I  said,  "  and  take  your  own 
time.  Tell  me  all  you  can  recollect  of  everything 
from  beginning  to  end.  You  got  across  the  Border 
on  your  camels,  Dravot  dressed  as  a  mad  priest 
and  you  his  servant.  Do  you  remember  that?  " 

"  I  ain't  mad — yet>  but  I  shall  be  that  way 
soon.  Of  course  I  remember.  Keep  looking  at 
me,  or  maybe  my  words  will  go  all  to  piects. 
Keep  looking  at  me  in  my  eyes  and  don't  say 
anything." 

I  leaned  forward  and  looked  into  his  face  as 
steadily  as  I  could.  He  dropped  one  hand  upon 
the  table  and  I  grasped  it  by  the  wrist.  It  was 
twisted  like  a  bird's  claw,  and  upon  the  back  was 
a  ragged,  red,  diamond-shaped  scar. 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  35 

"  No,  don't  look  there.  Look  at  me"  said 
Carnehan.  "That  comes  afterward,  but  for  the 
Lord's  sake  don't  distrack  me.  We  left  with  that 
caravan,  me  and  Dravot  playing  all  sorts  of  antics 
to  amuse  the  people  we  were  with.  Dravot  used 
to  make  us  laugh  in  the  evenings  when  all  the 
people  was  cooking  their  dinners — cooking  their 
dinners,  and  .  .  .  what  did  they  do  then?  They 
lit  little  fires  with  sparks  that  went  into  Dravot's 
beard,  and  we  all  laughed — fit  to  die.  Little  red 
fires  they  was,  going  into  Dravot's  big  red  beard 
— so  funny."  His  eyes  left  mine  and  he  smiled 
foolishly. 

"  You  went  as  far  as  Jagdallak  with  that  cara- 
van," I  said,  at  a  venture,  "  after  you  had  lit  those 
fires.  To  Jagdallak,  where  you  turned  off  to  try 
to  get  into  Kafiristan." 

"  No,  we  did  n't,  neither.  What  are  you  talking 
about?  We  turned  off  before  Jagdallak,  because 
we  heard  the  roads  was  good.  But  they  was  n't 
good  enough  for  our  two  camels— mine  and 
Dravot's.  When  we  left  the  caravan,  Dravot 
took  off  all  his  clothes  and  mine  too,  and  said  we 
would  be  heathen,  because  the  Kafirs  did  n't  allow 
Mohammedans  to  talk  to  them.  So  we  dressed 
betwixt  and  between,  and  such  a  sight  as  Daniel 
Dravot  I  never  saw  yet  nor  expect  to  see  again. 
He  burned  half  his  beard,  and  slung  a  sheepskin 
over  his  shoulder,  and  shaved  his  head  into  pat- 
terns. He  shaved  mine  too,  and  made  me  wear 
outrageous  things  to  look  like  a  heathen.  That 


36  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

was  in  a  most  mountaineous  country,  and  our 
camels  could  n't  go  along  any  more  because  of 
the  mountains.  They  were  tall  and  black,  and 
coming  home  I  saw  them  fight  like  wild  goats— 
there  are  lots  of  goats  in  Kafiristan.  And  these 
mountains,  they  never  keep  still,  no  more  than  the 
goats.  Always  fighting  they  are,  and  don't  let  you 
sleep  at  night." 

"  Take  some  more  whisky,"  I  said,  very  slowly. 
"  What  did  you  and  Daniel  Dravot  do  when  the 
camels  could  go  no  farther  because  of  the  rough 
roads  that  led  into  Kafiristan?  " 

"  What  did  which  do  ?  There  was  a  party  called 
Peachey  Taliaferro  Carnehan  that  was  with  Dravot. 
Shall  I  tell  you  about  him?  He  died  out  there 
in  the  cold.  Slap  from  the  bridge  fell  old  Peachey, 
turning  and  twisting  in  the  air  like  a  penny  whirli- 
gig that  you  can  sell  to  the  Amir.  No ;  they  was 
two  for  three  ha'pence,  those  whirligigs,  or  I  am 
much  mistaken  and  woful  sore.  .  .  .  And  then 
these  camels  were  no  use,  and  Peachey  said  to 
Dravot, '  For  the  Lord's  sake  let  's  get  out  of  this 
before  our  heads  are  chopped  off,'  and  with  that 
they  killed  the  camels  all  among  the  mountains, 
not  having  anything  in  particular  to  eat,  but  first 
they  took  off  the  boxes  with  the  guns  and  the 
ammunition,  till  two  men  came  along  driving  four 
mules.  Dravot  up  and  dances  in  front  of  them, 
singing,  '  Sell  me  four  mules.'  Says  the  first  man, 
'  If  you  are  rich  enough  to  buy,  you  are  rich 
enough  to  rob ; '  but  before  ever  he  could  put  his 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  37 

hand  to  his  knife,  Dravot  breaks  his  neck  over  his 
knee,  and  the  other  party  runs  away.  So  Carne- 
han  loaded  the  mules  with  the  rifles  that  was  taken 
off  the  camels,  and  together  we  starts  forward  into 
those  bitter-cold  mountaineous  parts,  and  never  a 
road  broader  than  the  back  of  your  hand." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  while  I  asked  him  if 
he  could  remember  the  nature  of  the  country 
through  which  he  had  journeyed. 

"  I  am  telling  you  as  straight  as  I  can,  but  my 
head  is  n't  as  good  as  it  might  be.  They  drove 
nails  through  it  to  make  me  hear  better  how 
Dravot  died.  The  country  was  mountaineous 
and  the  mules  were  most  contrary,  and  the  inhab- 
itants was  dispersed  and  solitary.  They  went  up 
and  up,  and  down  and  down,  and  that  other  party, 
Carnehan,  was  imploring  of  Dravot  not  to  sing 
and  whistle  so  loud,  for  fear  of  bringing  down  the 
tremenjus  avalanches.  But  Dravot  says  that  if  a 
King  could  n't  sing  it  was  n't  worth  being  King, 
and  whacked  the  mules  over  the  rump,  and  never 
took  no  heed  for  ten  cold  days.  We  came  to  a  big 
level  valley  all  among  the  mountains,  and  the  mules 
were  near  dead,  so  we  killed  them,  not  having  any- 
thing in  special  for  them  or  us  to  eat.  We  sat 
upon  the  boxes,  and  played  odd  and  even  with  the 
cartridges  that  was  jolted  out. 

"  Then  ten  men  with  bows  and  arrows  ran  down 
that  valley,  chasing  twenty  men  with  bows  and 
arrows,  and  the  row  was  tremenjus.  They  was 
fair  men — fairer  than  you  or  me — with  yellow  hair 


38  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

and  remarkable  well  built.  Says  Dravot,  unpack- 
ing the  guns,  '  This  is  the  beginning  of  the  busi- 
ness. We  '11  fight  for  the  ten  men,'  and  with  that 
he  fires  two  rifles  at  the  twenty  men,  and  drops  one 
of  them  at  two  hundred  yards  from  the  rock  where 
he  was  sitting.  The  other  men  began  to  run,  but 
Carnehan  and  Dravot  sits  on  the  boxes  picking 
them  off  at  all  ranges,  up  and  down  the  valley. 
Then  we  goes  up  to  the  ten  men  that  had  run 
across  the  snow  too,  and  they  fires  a  footy  little 
arrow  at  us.  Dravot  he  shoots  above  their  heads, 
and  they  all  falls  down  flat.  Then  he  walks  over 
them  and  kicks  them,  and  then  he  lifts  them  up 
and  shakes  hands  all  round  to  make  them  friendly 
like.  He  calls  them  and  gives  them  the  boxes  to 
carry,  and  waves  his  hand  for  all  the  world  as 
though  he  was  King  already.  They  takes  the 
boxes  and  him  across  the  valley  and  up  the  hill 
into  a  pine  wood  on  the  top,  where  there  was  half 
a  dozen  big  stone  idols.  Dravot  he  goes  to  the 
biggest — a  fellow  they  call  Imbra — and  lays  a  rifle 
and  a  cartridge  at  his  feet,  rubbing  his  nose  respect- 
ful with  his  own  nose,  patting  him  on  the  head,  and 
saluting  in  front  of  it.  He  turns  round  to  the  men 
and  nods  his  head,  and  says,  'That  's  all  right. 
I  'm  in  the  know  too,  and  all  these  old  jimjams 
are  my  friends.'  Then  he  opens  his  mouth  and 
points  down  it,  and  when  the  first  man  brings  him 
food,  he  says,  'No;'  and  when  the  second  man 
brings  him  food,  he  says,  '  No ;'  but  when  one  of 
the  old  priests  and  the  boss  of  the  village  brings 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  39 

him  food,  he  says,  'Yes;'  very  haughty,  and  eats 
it  slow.  That  was  how  he  came  to  our  first  village, 
without  any  trouble,  just  as  though  we  had  tum- 
bled from  the  skies.  But  we  tumbled  from  one 
of  those  damned  rope-bridges,  you  see,  and — you 
could  n't  expect  a  man  to  laugh  much  after  that?  " 

"  Take  some  more  whisky  and  go  on,"  I  said. 
"  That  was  the  first  village  you  came  into.  How 
did  you  get  to  be  King?  " 

"  I  was  n't  King,"  said  Carnehan.  "  Dravot  he 
was  the  King,  and  a  handsome  man  he  looked  with 
the  gold  crown  on  his  head  and  all.  Him  and  the 
other  party  stayed  in  that  village,  and  every  morn- 
ing Dravot  sat  by  the  side  of  old  Imbra,  and  the 
people  came  and  worshipped.  That  was  Dravot's 
order.  Then  a  lot  of  men  came  into  the  valley,  and 
Carnehan  Dravot  picks  them  off  with  the  rifles  be- 
fore they  knew  where  they  was,  and  runs  down  into 
the  valley  and  up  again  the  other  side,  and  finds  an- 
other village,  came  as  the  first  one,  and  the  people 
all  falls  down  flat  on  their  faces,  and  Dravot  says, 
'  Now  what  is  the  trouble  between  you  two  vil- 
lages? '  and  the  people  points  to  a  woman,  as  fair 
as  you  or  me,  that  was  carried  off,  and  Dravot  takes 
her  back  to  the  first  village  and  counts  up  the 
dead — eight  there  was.  For  each  dead  man 
Dravot  pours  a  little  milk  on  the  ground  and 
waves  his  arms  like  a  whirligig,  and  '  That  's  all 
right,'  says  he.  Then  he  and  Carnehan  takes  the 
big  boss  of  each  village  by  the  arm,  and  walks 
them  down  into  the  valley,  and  shows  them  how 


40  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

to  scratch  a  line  with  a  spear  right  down  the 
valley,  and  gives  each  a  sod  of  turf  from  both 
sides  of  the  line.  Then  all  the  people  comes 
down  and  shouts  like  the  devil  and  all,  and 
Dravot  says, '  Go  and  dig  the  land,  and  be  fruitful 
and  multiply,'  which  they  did,  though  they  did  n't 
understand.  Then  we  asks  the  names  of  things 
in  their  lingo — bread  and  water  and  fire  and  idols 
and  such ;  and  Dravot  leads  the  priest  of  each  vil- 
lage up  to  the  idol,  and  says  he  must  sit  there  and 
judge  the  people,  and  if  anything  goes  wrong  he  is 
to  be  shot. 

"  Next  week  they  was  all  turning  up  the  land  in 
the  valley  as  quiet  as  bees  and  much  prettier,  and 
the  priests  heard  all  the  complaints  and  told  Dravot 
in  dumb-show  what  it  was  about.  'That  's  just 
the  beginning,'  says  Dravot.  '  They  think  we  're 
Gods."  He  and  Carnehan  picks  out  twenty  good 
men  and  shows  them  how  to  click  off  a  rifle  and 
form  fours  and  advance  in  line ;  and  they  was  very 
pleased  to  do  so,  and  clever  to  see  the  hang  of  it. 
Then  he  takes  out  his  pipe  and  his  baccy-pouch, 
and  leaves  one  at  one  village  and  one  at  the  other, 
and  off  we  two  goes  to  see  what  was  to  be  done 
in  the  next  valley.  That  was  all  rock,  and  there 
was  a  little  village  there,  and  Carnehan  says, 
'  Send  'em  to  the  old  valley  to  plant,'  and  takes 
'em  there  and  gives  'em  some  land  that  was  n't 
took  before.  They  were  a  poor  lot,  and  we  blooded 
'em  with  a  kid  before  letting  'em  into  the  new 
Kingdom.  That  was  to  impress  the  people,  and 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  41 

then  they  settled  down  quiet,  and  Carnehan  went 
back  to  Dravot,  who  had  got  into  another  valley, 
all  snow  and  ice  and  most  mountaineous.  There 
was  no  people  there,  and  the  Army  got  afraid  ;  so 
Dravot  shoots  one  of  them,  and  goes  on  till  he 
finds  some  people  in  a  village,  and  the  Army  ex- 
plains that  unless  the  people  wants  to  be  killed  they 
had  better  not  shoot  their  little  matchlocks,  for 
they  had  matchlocks.  We  makes  friends  with  the 
priest,  and  I  stays  there  alone  with  two  of  the 
Army,  teaching  the  men  how  to  drill ;  and  a  thun- 
dering big  Chief  comes  across  the  snow  with 
kettledrums  and  horns  twanging,  because  he 
heard  there  was  a  new  God  kicking  about.  Car- 
nehan sights  for  the  brown  of  the  men  half  a  mile 
across  the  snow  and  wings  one  of  them.  Then  he 
sends  a  message  to  the  Chief  that,  unless  he  wished 
to  be  killed,  he  must  come  and  shake  hands  with 
me  and  leave  his  arms  behind.  The  Chief  comes 
alone  first,  and  Carnehan  shakes  hands  with  him 
and  whirls  his  arms  about,  same  as  Dravot  used, 
and  very  much  surprised  that  Chief  was,  and 
strokes  my  eyebrows.  Then  Carnehan  goes  alone 
to  the  Chief,  and  asks  him  in  dumb-show  if  he  had 
an  enemy  he  hated.  '  I  have,'  says  the  Chief.  So 
Carnehan  weeds  out  the  pick  of  his  men,  and  sets 
the  two  of  the  Army  to  show  them  drill,  and  at  the 
end  of  two  weeks  the  men  can  manoeuvre  about  as 
well  as  Volunteers.  So  he  marches  with  the  Chief 
to  a  great  big  plain  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  and 
the  Chief's  men  rushes  into  a  village  and  takes  it ; 


42  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

we  three  Martinis  firing  into  the  brown  of  the 
enemy.  So  we  took  that  village  too,  and  I  gives 
the  Chief  a  rag  from  my  coat,  and  says,  '  Occupy 
till  I  come  ; '  which  was  scriptural.  By  way  of  a 
reminder,  when  me  and  the  Army  was  eighteen 
hundred  yards  away,  I  drops  a  bullet  near  him 
standing  on  the  snow,  and  all  the  people  falls  flat 
on  their  faces.  Then  I  sends  a  letter  to  Dravot 
wherever  he  be  by  land  or  by  sea." 

At  the  risk  of  throwing  the  creature  out  of  train 
I  interrupted :  "How  could  you  write  a  letter  up 
yonder?  " 

"The  letter?— oh!— the  letter!  Keep  look- 
ing at  me  between  the  eyes,  please.  It  was  a 
string-talk  letter,  that  we  'd  learned  the  way  of  it 
from  a  blind  beggar  in  the  Punjab." 

I  remember  that  there  had  once  come  to  the 
office  a  blind  man  with  a  knotted  twig,  and  a  piece 
of  string  which  he  wound  round  the  twig  accord- 
ing to  some  cipher  of  his  own.  He  could,  after 
the  lapse  of  days  or  hours,  repeat  the  sentence 
which  he  had  reeled  up.  He  had  reduced  the 
alphabet  to  eleven  primitive  sounds,  and  tried  to 
teach  me  his  method,  but  I  could  not  under- 
stand. 

"  I  sent  that  letter  to  Dravot,"  said  Carnehan, 
"  and  told  him  to  come  back  because  this  Kingdom 
was  growing  too  big  for  me  to  handle ;  and  then  I 
struck  for  the  first  valley,  to  see  how  the  priests 
were  working.  They  called  the  village  we  took 
along  with  the  Chief,  Bashkai,  and  the  first  village 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  43 

we  took,  Er-Heb.  The  priests  at  Er-Heb  was  do- 
ing all  right,  but  they  had  a  lot  of  pending  cases 
about  land  to  show  me,  and  some  men  from  an- 
other village  had  been  firing  arrows  at  night.  I 
went  out  and  looked  for  that  village,  and  fired  four 
rounds  at  it  from  a  thousand  yards.  That  used  all 
the  cartridges  I  cared  to  spend,  and  I  waited  for 
Dravot,  who  had  been  away  two  or  three  months, 
and  I  kept  my  people  quiet. 

"  One  morning  I  heard  the  devil's  own  noise  of 
drums  and  horns,  and  Dan  Dravot  marches  down 
the  hill  with  his  Army  and  a  tail  of  hundreds  of 
men,  and,  which  was  the  most  amazing,  a  great 
gold  crown  on  his  head.  '  My  Gord,  Carnehan,' 
says  Daniel,  '  this  is  a  tremenjus  business,  and 
we  Ve  got  the  whole  country  as  far  as  it  's  worth 
having.  I  am  the  son  of  Alexander  by  Queen 
Semiramis,  and  you  're  my  younger  brother  and  a 
God  too!  It 's  the  biggest  thing  we  Ve  ever  seen. 
I  've  been  marching  and  fighting  for  six  weeks 
with  the  Army,  and  every  footy  little  village  for 
fifty  miles  has  come  in  rejoiceful ;  and  more  than 
that,  I  've  got  the  key  of  the  whole  show,  as  you  '11 
see,  and  I  've  got  a  crown  for  you !  I  told  'em  to 
make  two  of  'em  at  a  place  called  Shu,  where  the 
gold  lies  in  the  rock  like  suet  in  mutton.  Gold 
I  've  seen,  and  turquoise  I  Ve  kicked  out  of  the 
cliffs,  and  there  's  garnets  in  the  sands  of  the  river, 
and  here  's  a  chunk  of  amber  that  a  man  brought 
me.  Call  up  all  the  priests  and,  here,  take  your 
crown.' 


44  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

"  One  of  the  men  opens  a  black  hair  bag,  and 
I  slips  the  crown  on.  It  was  too  small  and  too 
heavy,  but  I  wore  it  for  the  glory.  Hammered 
gold  it  was — five  pound  weight,  like  a  hoop  of  a 
barrel. 

" '  Peachey,'  says  Dravot,  'we  don't  want  to  fight 
no  more.  The  Craft 's  the  trick,  so  help  me ! '  and 
he  brings  forward  that  same  Chief  that  I  left  at 
Bashkai — Billy  Fish  we  called  him  afterward,  be- 
cause he  was  so  like  Billy  Fish  that  drove  the  big 
tank-engine  at  Mach  on  the  Bolan  in  the  old  days. 
'  Shake  hands  with  him,'  says  Dravot ;  and  I 
shook  hands  and  nearly  dropped,  for  Billy  Fish 
gave  me  the  Grip.  I  said  nothing,  but  tried  him 
with  the  Fellow-craft  Grip.  He  answers  all 
right,  and  I  tried  the  Master's  Grip,  but  that  was 
a  slip.  'A  Fellow-craft  he  is!'  I  says  to  Dan. 
'Does  he  know  the  word?'  'He  does,'  says 
Dan,  'and  all  the  priests  know.  It  's  a  miracle! 
The  Chiefs  and  the  priests  can  work  a  Fellow- 
craft  Lodge  in  a  way  that  's  very  like  ours,  and 
they  've  cut  the  marks  on  the  rocks,  but  they 
don't  know  the  Third  Degree,  and  they  Ve  come 
to  find  out.  It  's  Gord's  Truth.  I  've  known 
these  long  years  that  the  Afghans  knew  up  to  the 
Fellow-craft  Degree,  but  this  is  a  miracle.  A  God 
and  a  Grand  Master  of  the  Craft  am  I,  and  a 
Lodge  in  the  Third  Degree  I  will  open,  and 
we  '11  raise  the  head  priests  and  the  Chiefs  of  the 
villages.' 

"'It  's  against  all  the  law,'  I  says,  'holding  a 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  45 

Lodge  without  warrant  from  any  one;  and  you 
know  we  never  held  office  in  any  Lodge.' 

"  '  It  's  a  master  stroke  o'  policy,'  says  Dravot. 
'  It  means  running  the  country  as  easy  as  a 
four-wheeled  bogie  on  a  down  grade.  We  can't 
stop  to  inquire  now,  or  they  '11  turn  against  us. 
I  Ve  forty  Chiefs  at  my  heel,  and  passed  and 
raised  according  to  their  merit  they  shall  be. 
Billet  these  men  on  the  villages,  and  see  that  we 
run  up  a  Lodge  of  some  kind.  The  temple  of 
Imbra  will  do  for  the  Lodge-room.  The  women 
must  make  aprons  as  you  show  them.  I  '11  hold  a 
levee  of  Chiefs  to-night  and  Lodge  to-morrow.' 

"  I  was  fair  run  off  my  legs,  but  I  was  n't  such 
a  fool  as  not  to  see  what  a  pull  this  Craft  business 
gave  us.  I  showed  the  priests'  families  how  to 
make  aprons  of  the  degrees,  but  for  Dravot's  apron 
the  blue  border  and  marks  was  made  of  turquoise 
lumps  on  white  hide,  not  cloth.  We  took  a  great 
square  stone  in  the  temple  for  the  Master's  chair, 
and  little  stones  for  the  officers'  chairs,  and  painted 
the  black  pavement  with  white  squares,  and  did 
what  we  could  to  make  things  regular. 

"  At  the  levee  which  was  held  that  night  on  the 
hillside  with  big  bonfires,  Dravot  gives  out  that 
him  and  me  were  Gods  and  sons  of  Alexander,  and 
Passed  Grand  Masters  in  the  Craft,  and  was  come  to 
make  Kafiristan  a  country  where  every  man  should 
eat  in  peace  and  drink  in  quiet,  and  specially  obey 
us.  Then  the  Chiefs  come  round  to  shake  hands, 
and  they  were  so  hairy  and  white  and  fair  it  was 


46  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

just  shaking  hands  with  old  friends.  We  gave 
them  names  according  as  they  was  like  men  we  had 
known  in  India — Billy  Fish,  Holly  Dilworth,  Pikky 
Kergan,  that  was  Bazaar-master  when  I  was  at 
Mhow,  and  so  on,  and  so  on. 

"The  most  amazing  miracles  was  at  Lodge  next 
night.  One  of  the  old  priests  was  watching  us 
continuous,  and  I  felt  uneasy,  for  I  knew  we  'd 
have  to  fudge  the  Ritual,  and  I  did  n't  know  what 
the  men  knew.  The  old  priest  was  a  stranger 
come  in  from  beyond  the  village  of  Bashkai.  The 
minute  Dravot  puts  on  the.  Master's  apron  that  the 
girls  had  made  for  him,  the  priest  fetches  a  whoop 
and  a  howl,  and  tries  to  overturn  the  stone  that 
Dravot  was  sitting  on.  '  It  's  all  up  now,'  I  says. 
'  That  comes  of  meddling  with  the  Craft  without 
warrant ! '  Dravot  never  winked  an  eye,  not  when 
ten  priests  took  and  tilted  over  the  Grand  Master's 
chair — which  was  to  say,  the  stone  of  Imbra.  The 
priest  begins  rubbing  the  bottom  end  of  it  to  clear 
away  the  black  dirt,  and  presently  he  shows  all  the 
other  priests  the  Master's  Mark,  same  as  was  on 
Dravot's  apron,  cut  into  the  stone.  Not  even  the 
priests  of  the  temple  of  Imbra  knew  it  was  there. 
The  old  chap  falls  flat  on  his  face  at  Dravot's  feet 
and  kisses  'em.  '  Luck  again,'  says  Dravot,  across 
the  Lodge,  to  me ;  '  they  say  it 's  the  missing  Mark 
that  no  one  could  understand  the  why  of.  We  're 
more  than  safe  now."  Then  he  bangs  the  butt  of 
his  gun  for  a  gavel  and  says, '  By  virtue  of  the  au- 
thority vested  in  me  by  my  own  right  hand  and  the 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  47 

help  of  Peachey,  I  declare  myself  Grand  Master  of 
all  Freemasonry  in  Kafiristan  in  this  the  Mother 
Lodge  o'  the  country,  and  King  of  Kafiristan 
equally  with  Peachey ! '  At  that  he  puts  on  his 
crown  and  I  puts  on  mine, — I  was  doing  Senior 
Warden, — and  we  opens  the  Lodge  in  most  ample 
form.  It  was  a  amazing  miracle!  The  priests 
moved  in  Lodge  through  the  first  two  degrees  al- 
most without  telling,  as  if  the  memory  was  coming 
back  to  them.  After  that  Peachey  and  Dravot 
raised  such  as  was  worthy — high  priests  and  Chiefs 
of  far-off  villages.  Billy  Fish  was  the  first,  and  I 
can  tell  you  we  scared  the  soul  out  of  him.  It  was 
not  in  any  way  according  to  Ritual,  but  it  served 
our  turn.  We  did  n't  raise  more  than  ten  of  the 
biggest  men,  because  we  did  n't  want  to  make  the 
Degree  common.  And  they  was  clamouring  to  be 
raised. 

" '  In  another  six  months,'  says  Dravot,  '  we  '11 
hold  another  Communication  and  see  how  you  are 
working.'  Then  he  asks  them  about  their  villages, 
and  learns  that  they  was  fighting  one  against  the 
other,  and  were  sick  and  tired  of  it.  And  when 
they  was  n't  doing  that  they  was  fighting  with  the 
Mohammedans.  '  You  can  fight  those  when  they 
come  into  our  country,'  says  Dravot.  'Tell  off 
every  tenth  man  of  your  tribes  for  a  Frontier 
guard,  and  send  two  hundred  at  a  time  to  this 
valley  to  be  drilled.  Nobody  is  going  to  be  shot 
or  speared  any  more  so  long  as  he  does  well,  and 
I  know  that  you  won't  cheat  me,  because  you  're 


48  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

white  people — sons  of  Alexander — and  not  like 
common  black  Mohammedans.  You  are  my 
people,  and,  by  God,'  says  he,  running  off  into 
English  at  the  end,  '  I  '11  make  a  damned  fine 
Nation  of  you,  or  I  '11  die  in  the  making ! ' 

"  I  can't  tell  all  we  did  for  the  next  six  months, 
because  Dravot  did  a  lot  I  could  n't  see  the  hang 
of,  and  he  learned  their  lingo  in  a  way  I  never 
could.  My  work  was  to  help  the  people  plough, 
and  now  and  again  go  out  with  some  of  the  Army 
and  see  what  the  other  villages  were  doing,  and 
make  'em  throw  rope  bridges  across  the  ravines 
which  cut  up  the  country  horrid.  Dravot  was 
very  kind  to  me,  but  when  he  walked  up  and  down 
in  the  pine  wood  pulling  that  bloody  red  beard  of 
his  with  both  fists  I  knew  he  was  thinking  plans 
I  could  not  advise  about,  and  I  just  waited  for 
orders. 

"  But  Dravot  never  showed  me  disrespect  be- 
fore the  people.  They  were  afraid  of  me  and  the 
Army,  but  they  loved  Dan.  He  was  the  best  of 
friends  with  the  priests  and  the  Chiefs;  but  any 
one  could  come  across  the  hills  with  a  complaint, 
and  Dravot  would  hear  him  out  fair,  and  call  four 
priests  together  and  say  what  was  to  be  done.  He 
used  to  call  in  Billy  Fish  from  Bashkai,  and  Pikky 
Kergan  from  Shu,  and  an  old  Chief  we  called 
Kafuzelum, — it  was  like  enough  to  his  real  name, 
— and  hold  councils  with  'em  when  there  was  any 
fighting  to  be  done  in  small  villages.  That  was 
his  Council  of  War,  and  the  four  priests  of  Bashkai, 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  49 

Shu,  Khawak,  and  Madora  was  his  Privy  Council. 
Between  the  lot  of  'em  they  sent  me,  with  forty 
men  and  twenty  rifles,  and  sixty  men  carrying  tur- 
quoises, into  the  Ghorband  country  to  buy  those 
hand-made  Martini  rifles,  that  come  out  of  the 
Amir's  workshops  at  Kabul,  from  one  of  the 
Amir's  Herati  regiments  that  would  have  sold  the 
very  teeth  out  of  their  mouths  for  turquoises. 

"  I  stayed  in  Ghorband  a  month,  and  gave  the 
Governor  there  the  pick  of  my  baskets  for  hush- 
money,  and  bribed  the  Colonel  of  the  regiment 
some  more,  and,  between  the  two  and  the  tribes- 
people,  we  got  more  than  a  hundred  hand-made 
Martinis,  a  hundred  good  Kohat  Jezails  that  '11 
throw  to  six  hundred  yards,  and  forty  man-loads 
of  very  bad  ammunition  for  the  rifles.  I  came 
back  with  what  I  had,  and  distributed  'em  among 
the  men  that  the  Chiefs  sent  in  to  me  to  drill. 
Dravot  was  too  busy  to  attend  to  those  things, 
but  the  old  Army  that  we  first  made  helped  me, 
and  we  turned  out  five  hundred  men  that  could 
drill,  and  two  hundred  that  knew  how  to  hold  arms 
pretty  straight.  Even  those  cork-screwed,  hand- 
made guns  was  a  miracle  to  them.  Dravot  talked 
big  about  powder-shops  and  factories,  walking  up 
and  down  in  the  pine  wood  when  the  winter  was 
coming  on. 

"  '  I  won't  make  a  Nation,'  says  he.  '  I  '11  make 
an  Empire!  These  men  are  n't  niggers;  they  're 
English!  Look  at  their  eyes — look  at  their 
mouths.  Look  at  the  way  they  stand  up.  They 


50  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

sit  on  chairs  in  their  own  houses.  They  're  the 
Lost  Tribes,  or  something  like  it,  and  they  've 
grown  to  be  English.  I  '11  take  a  census  in  the 
spring  if  the  priests  don't  get  frightened.  There 
must  be  a  fair  two  million  of  'em  in  these  hills. 
The  villages  are  full  o'  little  children.  Two  million 
people — two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  fighting 
men — and  all  English!  They  only  want  the  rifles 
and  a  little  drilling.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand men,  ready  to  cut  in  on  Russia's  right  flank 
when  she  tries  for  India!  Peach ey,  man,'  he  says, 
chewing  his  beard  in  great  hunks, '  we  shall  be  Em- 
perors— Emperors  of  the  Earth!  Rajah  Brooke 
will  be  a  suckling  to  us.  I  '11  treat  with  the  Vice- 
roy on  equal  terms.  I  '11  ask  him  to  send  me 
twelve  picked  English — twelve  that  I  know  of — to 
help  us  govern  a  bit.  There  's  Mackray,  Serjeant 
Pensioner  at  Segowli — many  's  the  good  dinner 
he  's  given  me,  and  his  wife  a  pair  of  trousers. 
There  's  Donkin,  the  Warder  of  Tounghoo  Jail ; 
there  's  hundreds  that  I  could  lay  my  hand  on  if 
I  was  in  India.  The  Viceroy  shall  do  it  for  me ; 
I  '11  send  a  man  through  in  the  spring  for  those 
men,  and  I  '11  write  for  a  dispensation  from  the 
Grand  Lodge  for  what  I  've  done  as  Grand  Mas- 
ter. That— and  all  the  Sniders  that  '11  be  thrown 
out  when  the  native  troops  in  India  take  up  the 
Martini.  They  '11  be  worn  smooth,  but  they  '11 
do  for  fighting  in  these  hills.  Twelve  English,  a 
hundred  thousand  Sniders  run  through  the  Amir's 
country  in  driblets, — I  'd  be  content  with  twenty 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  51 

thousand  in  one  year, — and  we  'd  be  an  Empire. 
When  everything  was  shipshape  I  'd  hand  over 
the  crown — this  crown  I  'm  wearing  now — to 
Queen  Victoria  on  my  knees,  and  she  'd  say, 
"Rise  up,  Sir  Daniel  Dravot."  Oh,  it  's  big! 
It  's  big,  I  tell  you!  But  there  's  so  much  to  be 
done  in  every  place — Bashkai,  Khawak,  Shu,  and 
everywhere  else.' 

"'What  is  it?'  I  says.  'There  are  no  more 
men  coming  in  to  be  drilled  this  autumn.  Look 
at  those  fat  black  clouds.  They  're  bringing  the 
snow.'  x 

" '  It  is  n't  that,'  says  Daniel,  putting  his  hand 
very -hard  on  my  shoulder;  'and  I  don't  wish  to 
say  anything  that  's  against  you,  for  no  other  liv- 
ing man  would  have  followed  me  and  made  me 
what  I  am  as  you  have  done.  You  're  a  first-class 
Commander-in-Chief,  and  the  people  know  you; 
but — it  's  a  big  country,  and  somehow  you  can't 
help  me,  Peachey,  in  the  way  I  want  to  be  helped.' 

"  '  Go  to  your  blasted  priests,  then! '  I  said,  and 
I  was  sorry  when  I  made  that  remark,  but  it  did 
hurt  me  sore  to  find  Daniel  talking  so  superior, 
when  I  'd  drilled  all  the  men  and  done  all  he  told 
me. 

" '  Don't  let  's  quarrel,  Peachey,'  says  Daniel, 
without  cursing.  '  You  're  a  King  too,  and  the 
half  of  this  Kingdom  is  yours ;  but  can't  you  see, 
Peachey,  we  want  cleverer  men  than  us  now — three 
or  four  of  'em,  that  we  can  scatter  about  for  our 
Deputies.  It 's  a  hugeous  great  State,  and  I  can't 


52  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

always  tell  the  right  thing  to  do,  and  I  have  n't 
time  for  all  I  want  to  do,  and  here  's  the  winter 
coming  on  and  all.'  He  put  half  his  beard  into 
his  mouth,  all  red  like  the  gold  of  his  crown. 

"'I  'm  sorry,  Daniel,'  says  I.  '  I  've  done  all 
I  could.  I  've  drilled  the  men  and  shown  the 
people  how  to  stack  their  oats  better;  and  I  've 
brought  in  those  tinware  rifles  from  Ghorband — 
but  I  know  what  you  're  driving  at.  I  take  it 
Kings  always  feel  oppressed  that  way.' 

" '  There  's  another  thing  too,'  says  Dravot, 
walking  up  and  down.  '  The  winter  's  coming, 
and  these  people  won't  be  giving  much  trouble,  and 
if  they  do  we  can't  move  about.  I  want  a  wife.' 

"  '  For  Gord's  sake  leave  the  women  alone ! '  I 
says.  'We  've  both  got  all  the  work  we  can, 
though  I  am  a  fool.  Remember  the  Contrack, 
and  keep  clear  o'  women.' 

" '  The  Contrack  only  lasted  till  such  time  as 
we  was  Kings ;  and  Kings  we  have  been  these 
months  past,'  says  Dravot,  weighing  his  crown  in 
his  hand.  'You  go  get  a  wife  too,  Peachey — a 
nice,  strappin',  plump  girl  that  '11  keep  you  warm 
in  the  winter.  They  're  prettier  than  English  girls, 
and  we  can  take  the  pick  of  'em.  Boil  'em  once  or 
twice  in  hot  water,  and  they  '11  come  out  like 
chicken  and  ham.' 

'"Don't  tempt  me!'  I  says.  'I  will  not  have 
any  dealings  with  a  woman,  not  till  we  are  a  dam' 
side  more  settled  than  we  are  now.  I  've  been  do- 
ing the  work  o'  two  men,  and  you  've  been  doing 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  53 

the  work  o'  three.  Let  's  lie  off  a  bit,  and  see  if 
we  can  get  some  better  tobacco  from  Afghan 
country  and  run  in  some  good  liquor;  but  no 
women.' 

"  '  Who  's  talking  o'  women?  '  says  Dravot.  '  I 
said  wife — a  Queen  to  breed  a  King's  son  for  the 
King.  A  Queen  out  of  the  strongest  tribe,  that  '11 
make  them  your  blood-brothers,  and  that  '11  lie 
by  your  side  and  tell  you  all  the  people  thinks 
about  you  and  their  own  affairs.  That  's  what  I 
want.' 

"  '  Do  you  remember  that  Bengali  woman  I  kept 
at  Mogul  Serai  when  I  was  a  plate-layer? '  says 
I.  '  A  fat  lot  o'  good  she  was  to  me.  She  taught 
me  the  lingo  and  one  or  two  other  things ;  but 
what  happened?  She  ran  away  with  the  Station- 
master's  servant  and  half  my  month's  pay.  Then 
she  turned  up  at  Dadur  Junction  in  tow  of  a  half- 
caste,  and  had  the  impidence  to  say  I  was  her  hus- 
band— all  among  the  drivers  in  the  running-shed 
too!' 

" '  We  've  done  with  that,'  says  Dravot ;  '  these 
women  are  whiter  than  you  or  me,  and  a  Queen 
I  will  have  for  the  winter  months.' 

"  '  For  the  last  time  o'  asking,  Dan,  do  not]  I 
says.  '  It  '11  only  bring  us  harm.  The  Bible  says 
that  Kings  ain't  to  waste  their  strength  on  women, 
'specially  when  they  've  got  a  new  raw  Kingdom 
to  work  over.' 

" '  For  the  last  time  of  answering,  I  will,'  said 
Dravot,  and  he  went  away  through  the  pine-trees 


54  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

looking  like  a  big  red  devil,  the  sun  being  on  his 
crown  and  beard  and  all. 

"  But  getting  a  wife  was  not  as  easy  as  Dan 
thought.  He  put  it  before  the  Council,  and  there 
was  no  answer  till  Billy  Fish  said  that  he  'd  better 
ask  the  girls.  Dravot  damned  them  all  round. 
'  What 's  wrong  with  me?  '  he  shouts,  standing  by 
the  idol  Imbra.  '  Am  I  a  dog,  or  am  I  not  enough 
of  a  man  for  your  wenches?  Have  n't  I  put  the 
shadow  of  my  hand  over  this  country?  Who 
stopped  the  last  Afghan  raid  ?  '  It  was  me  really, 
but  Dravot  was  too  angry  to  remember.  '  Who 
bought  your  guns?  Who  repaired  the  bridges? 
Who  's  the  Grand  Master  of  the  sign  cut  in  the 
stone?  '  says  he,  and  he  thumped  his  hand  on,  the 
block  that  he  used  to  sit  on  in  Lodge,  and  at 
Council,  which  opened  like  Lodge  always.  Billy 
Fish  said  nothing,  and  no  more  did  the  others. 
'  Keep  your  hair  on,  Dan,'  said  I,  '  and  ask  the 
girls.  That  's  how  it  's  done  at  Home,  and  these 
people  are  quite  English.' 

" '  The  marriage  of  the  King  is  a  matter  of 
State,'  says  Dan,  in  a  white-hot  rage,  for  he  could 
feel,  I  hope,  that  he  was  going  against  his  better 
mind.  He  walked  out  of  the  Council-room,  and 
the  others  sat  still,  looking  at  the  ground. 

" '  Billy  Fish,'  says  I  to  the  Chief  of  Bashkai, 
'what  's  the  difficulty  here?  A  straight  answer  to 
a  true  friend.' 

"  '  You  know,'  says  Billy  Fish.  '  How  should 
a  man  tell  you  who  knows  everything?  How  can 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  55 

daughters  of  men  marry  Gods  or  Devils?  It  's 
not  proper.' 

"  I  remembered  something  like  that  in  the 
Bible ;  but  if,  after  seeing  us  as  long  as  they  had, 
they  still  believed  we  were  Gods,  it  was  n't  for  me 
to  undeceive  them. 

"  '  A  God  can  do  anything,'  says  I.  '  If  the 
King  is  fond  of  a  girl  he  '11  not  let  her  die.' 
'  She  '11  have  to,'  said  Billy  Fish.  '  There  are  all 
sorts  of  Gods  and  Devils  in  these  mountains,  and 
now  and  again  a  girl  marries  one  of  them  and 
is  n't  seen  any  more.  Besides,  you  two  know  the 
Mark  cut  in  the  stone.  Only  the  Gods  know  that. 
We  thought  you  were  men  till  you  showed  the  sign 
of  the  Master.' 

"  I  wished  then  that  we  had  explained  about  the 
loss  of  the  genuine  secrets  of  a  Master  Mason  at 
the  first  go-off ;  but  I  said  nothing.  All  that  night 
there  was  a  blowing  of  horns  in  a  little  dark  temple 
half-way  down  the  hill,  and  I  heard  a  girl  crying 
fit  to  die.  One  of  the  priests  told  us  that  she  was 
being  prepared  to  marry  the  King. 

"  '  I  '11  have  no  nonsense  of  that  kind,'  says 
Dan.  '  I  don't  want  to  interfere  with  your  cus- 
toms, but  I  '11  take  my  own  wife.'  '  The  girl  's  a 
little  bit  afraid,'  says  the  priest.  '  She  thinks  she  's 
going  to  die,  and  they  are  a-heartening  of  her  up 
down  in  the  temple.' 

"  '  Hearten  her  very  tender,  then,'  says  Dravot, 
'  or  I  '11  hearten  you  with  the  butt  of  a  gun  so 
you  '11  never  want  to  be  heartened  again.'  He 


56  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

licked  his  lips,  did  Dan,  and  stayed  up  walking 
about  more  than  half  the  night,  thinking  of  the 
wife  that  he  was  going  to  get  in  the  morning.  I 
was  n't  any  means  comfortable,  for  I  knew  that 
dealings  with  a  woman  in  foreign  parts,  though 
you  was  a  crowned  King  twenty  times  over,  could 
not  but  be  risky.  I  got  up  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing while  Dravot  was  asleep,  and  I  saw  the  priests 
talking  together  in  whispers,  and  the  Chiefs  talking 
together  too,  and  they  looked  at  me  out  of  the 
corners  of  their  eyes. 

"  '  What  is  up,  Fish?  '  I  say  to  the  Bashkai  man, 
who  was  wrapped  up  in  his  furs  and  looking 
splendid  to  behold. 

"  '  I  can't  rightly  say,'  says  he ;  'but  if  you  can 
make  the  King  drop  all  this  nonsense  about  mar- 
riage, you  '11  be  doing  him  and  me  and  yourself  a 
great  service.' 

" '  That  I  do  believe,'  says  I.  '  But  sure,  you 
know,  Billy,  as  well  as  me,  having  fought  against 
and  for  us,  that  the  King  and  me  are  nothing  more 
than  two  of  the  finest  men  that  God  Almighty  ever 
made.  Nothing  more,  I  do  assure  you.' 

" '  That  may  be,'  says  Billy  Fish,  '  and  yet  I 
should  be  sorry  if  it  was.'  He  sinks  his  head 
upon  his  great  fur  cloak  for  a  minute  and  thinks. 
'  King,'  says  he,  '  be  you  man  or  God  or  Devil, 
I  '11  stick  by  you  to-day.  I  have  twenty  of  my 
men  with  me,  and  they  will  follow  me.  We  '11  go 
to  Bashkai  until  the  storm  blows  over.' 

"A  little  snow  had  fallen  in  the  night,  and 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  57 

everything  was  white  except  the  greasy  fat  clouds 
that  blew  down  and  down  from  the  north.  Dravot 
came  out  with  his  crown  on  his  head,  swinging  his 
arms  and  stamping  his  feet,  and  looking  more 
pleased  than  Punch. 

"  '  For  the  last  time,  drop  it,  Dan,'  says  I,  in  a 
whisper ;  '  Billy  Fish  here  says  that  there  will  be  a 
row.' 

"'A  row  among  my  people!'  says  Dravot. 
'  Not  much.  Peachey,  you  're  a  fool  not  to  get  a 
wife  too.  Where 's  the  girl?  '  says  he,  with  a  voice 
as  loud  as  the  braying  of  a  jackass.  '  Call  up  all 
the  Chiefs  and  priests,  and  let  the  Emperor  see  if 
his  wife  suits  him.' 

"There  was  no  need  to  call  any  one.  They 
were  all  there  leaning  on  their  guns  and  spears 
round  the  clearing  in  the  centre  of  the  pine  wood. 
A  lot  of  priests  went  down  to  the  little  temple  to 
bring  up  the  girl,  and  the  horns  blew  fit  to  wake 
the  dead.  Billy  Fish  saunters  round  and  gets  as 
close  to  Daniel  as  he  could,  and  behind  him  stood 
his  twenty  men  with  matchlocks — not  a  man  of 
them  under  six  feet.  I  was  next  to  Dravot,  and 
behind  me  was  twenty  men  of  the  regular  Army. 
Up  comes  the  girl,  and  a  strapping  wench  she 
was,  covered  with  silver  and  turquoises,  but  white 
as  death,  and  looking  back  every  minute  at  the 
priests. 

" '  She  '11  do,'  said  Dan,  looking  her  over. 
'What  's  to  be  afraid  of,  lass?  Come  and  kiss 
me.'  He  puts  his  arm  round  her.  She  shuts  her 


58  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

eyes,  gives  a  bit  of  a  squeak,  and  down  goes  her 
face  in  the  side  of  Dan's  flaming-red  beard. 

"  'The  slut  's  bitten  me!'  says  he,  clapping  his 
hand  to  his  neck,  and,  sure  enough,  his  hand  was 
red  with  blood.  Billy  Fish  and  two  of  his  match- 
lock-men catches  hold  of  Dan  by  the  shoulders  and 
drags  him  into  the  Bashkai  lot,  while  the  priests 
howls  in  their  lingo,  '  Neither  God  nor  Devil,  but 
a  man ! '  I  was  all  taken  aback,  for  a  priest  cut 
at  me  in  front,  and  the  Army  behind  began  firing 
into  the  Bashkai  men. 

"'God  A'mighty!'  says  Dan,  'what  is  the 
meaning  o'  this?  ' 

"  '  Come  back!  Come  away! '  says  Billy  Fish. 
'  Ruin  and  Mutiny  is  the  matter.  We  '11  break  for 
Bashkai  if  we  can.' 

"  I  tried  to  give  some  sort  of  orders  to  my  men, — 
the  men  o'  the  regular  Army, — but  it  was  no  use,  so 
I  fired  into  the  brown  of  'em  with  an  English  Mar- 
tini and  drilled  three  beggars  in  a  line.  The  valley 
was  full  of  shouting,  howling  creatures,  and  every 
soul  was  shrieking,  '  Not  a  God  nor  a  Devil,  but 
only  a  man ! '  The  Bashkai  troops  stuck  to  Billy 
Fish  all  they  were  worth,  but  their  matchlocks 
was  n't  half  as  good  as  the  Kabul  breech-loaders, 
and  four  of  them  dropped.  Dan  was  bellowing 
like  a  bull,  for  he  was  very  'wrathy ;  and  Billy 
Fish  had  a  hard  job  to  prevent  him  running  out 
at  the  crowd. 

"  '  We  can't  stand,'  says  Billy  Fish.  '  Make  a 
run  for  it  down  the  valley!  The  whole  place  is 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  59 

against  us.'  The  matchlock-men  ran,  and  we 
went  down  the  valley  in  spite  of  Dravot.  He 
was  swearing  horrible  and  crying  out  he  was  a 
King.  The  priests  rolled  great  stones  on  us,  and 
the  regular  Army  fired  hard,  and  there  was  n't 
more  than  six  men,  not  counting  Dan,  Billy  Fish, 
and  Me,  that  came  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
valley  alive. 

"  Then  they  stopped  firing,  and  the  horns  in  the 
temple  blew  again.  '  Come  away — for  Cord's  sake 
come  away ! '  says  Billy  Fish.  '  They  '11  send  run- 
ners out  to  all  the  villages  before  ever  we  get  to 
Bashkai.  I  can  protect  you  there,  but  I  can't  do 
anything  now.' 

"  My  own  notion  is  that  Dan  began  to  go  mad 
in  his  head  from  that  hour.  He  stared  up  and 
down  like  a  stuck  pig.  Then  he  was  all  for  walk- 
ing back  alone  and  killing  the  priests  with  his  bare 
hands  ;  which  he  could  have  done.  '  An  Emperor 
am  I,1  says  Daniel,  '  and  next  year  I  shall  be  a 
Knight  of  the  Queen.' 

"  '  All  right,  Dan,'  says  I ;  '  but  come  along  now 
while  there  's  time.' 

" '  It  's  your  fault,'  says  he,  '  for  not  looking 
after  your  Army  better.  There  was  mutiny  in  the 
midst,  and  you  did  n't  know — you  damned  en- 
gine-driving, plate-laying,  missionary's-pass-hunt- 
ing  hound!'  He  sat  upon  a  rock  and  called  me 
every  foul  name  he  could  lay  tongue  to.  I  was 
too  heart-sick  to  care,  though  it  was  all  his  foolish- 
ness that  brought  the  smash. 


60  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

" '  I  'm  sorry,  Dan,'  says  I,  '  but  there  's  no 
accounting  for  natives.  This  business  is  our 
Fifty-seven.  Maybe  we  '11  make  something  out 
of  it  yet,  when  we  've  got  to  Bashkai.' 

"  '  Let  's  get  to  Bashkai,  then,'  says  Dan,  '  and, 
by  God,  when  I  come  back  here  again  I  '11  sweep 
the  valley  so  there  is  n't  a  bug  in  a  blanket  left! ' 

"  We  walked  all  that  day,  and  all  that  night  Dan 
was  stumping  up  and  down  on  the  snow,  chewing 
his  beard  and  muttering  to  himself. 

" '  There  's  no  hope  o'  getting  clear,'  said  Billy 
Fish.  '  The  priests  will  have  sent  runners  to  the 
villages  to  say  that  you  are  only  men.  Why 
did  n't  you  stick  on  as  Gods  till  things  was  more 
settled?  I  'm  a  dead  man,'  says  Billy  Fish,  and 
he  throws  himself  down  on  the  snow  and  begins 
to  pray  to  his  Gods. 

"  Next  morning  we  was  in  a  cruel  bad  country 
— all  up  and  down,  no  level  ground  at  all,  and  no 
food,  either.  The  six  Bashkai  men  looked  at  Billy 
Fish  hungry-way  as  if  they  wanted  to  ask  some- 
thing, but  they  said  never  a  word.  At  noon  we 
came  to  the  top  of  a  flat  mountain  all  covered 
with  snow,  and  when  we  climbed  up  into  it,  be- 
hold, there  was  an  Army  in  position  waiting  in  the 
middle ! 

" '  The  runners  have  been  very  quick,'  says  Billy 
Fish,  with  a  little  bit  of  a  laugh.  '  They  are  wait- 
ing for  us.' 

"Three  or  four  men  began  to  fire  from  the 
enemy's  side,  and  a  chance  shot  took  Daniel  in  the 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  6 1 

calf  of  the  leg.  That  brought  him  to  his  senses. 
He  looks  across  the  snow  at  the  Army,  and  sees 
the  rifles  that  we  had  brought  into  the  country. 

" '  We  're  done  for,'  says  he.  '  They  are  Eng- 
lishmen, these  people, — and  it  's  my  blasted  non- 
sense that  has  brought  you  to  this.  Get  back, 
Billy  Fish,  and  take  your  men  away  ;  you  've  done 
what  you  could,  and  now  cut  for  it.  Carnehan,' 
says  he,  '  shake  hands  with  me  and  go  along  with 
Billy.  Maybe  they  won't  kill  you.  I  '11  go  and 
meet  'em  alone.  It  's  me  that  did  it!  Me,  the 
King!' 

" '  Go ! '  says  I.  '  Go  to  Hell,  Dan !  I  'm  with 
you  here.  Billy  Fish,  you  clear  out,  and  we  two 
will  meet  those  folk.' 

" '  I  'm  a  Chief,'  says  Billy  Fish,  quite  quiet. 
'  I  stay  with  you.  My  men  can  go.' 

"  The  Bashkai  fellows  did  n't  wait  for  a  second 
word,  but  ran  off,  and  Dan  and  Me  and  Billy  Fish 
walked  across  to  where  the  drums  were  drumming 
and  the  horns  were  horning.  It  was  cold — awful 
cold.  I  've  got  that  cold  in  the  back  of  my  head 
now.  There  's  a  lump  of  it  there." 

The  punka-coolies  had  gone  to  sleep.  Two 
kerosene  lamps  were  blazing  in  the  office,  and  the 
perspiration  poured  down  my  face  and  splashed 
on  the  blotter  as  I  leaned  forward.  Carnehan  was 
shivering,  and  I  feared  that  his  mind  might  go.  I 
wiped  my  face,  took  a  fresh  grip  of  the  piteously 
mangled  hands,  and  said,  "What  happened  after 
that?" 


62  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

The  momentary  shift  of  my  eyes  had  broken  the 
clear  current. 

"What  was  you  pleased  to  say?"  whined 
Carnehan.  "  They  took  them  without  any  sound. 
Not  a  little  whisper  all  along  the  snow,  not  though 
the  King  knocked  down  the  first  man  that  set  hand 
on  him — not  though  old  Peachey  fired  his  last  car- 
tridge into  the  brown  of  'em.  Not  a  single  solitary 
sound  did  those  swines  make.  They  just  closed 
up  tight,  and  I  tell  you  their  furs  stunk.  There 
was  a  man  called  Billy  Fish,  a  good  friend  of  us 
all,  and  they  cut  his  throat,  Sir,  then  and  there,  like 
a  pig ;  and  the  King  kicks  up  the  bloody  snow  and 
says,  'We  've  had  a  dashed  fine  run  for  our 
money.  What  's  coming  next?'  But  Peachey, 
Peachey  Taliaferro,  I  tell  you,  Sir,  in  confidence 
as  betwixt  two  friends,  he  lost  his  head,  Sir.  No, 
he  did  n't,  neither.  The  King  lost  his  head,  so  he 
did,  all  along  o'  one  of  those  cunning  rope  bridges. 
Kindly  let  me  have  the  paper-cutter,  Sir.  It  tilted 
this  way.  They  marched  him  a  mile  across  that 
snow  to  a  rope  bridge  over  a  ravine  with  a  river 
at  the  bottom.  You  may  have  seen  such.  They 
prodded  him  behind  like  an  ox.  '  Damn  your 
eyes! 'says  the  King.  '  D'  you  suppose  I  can't 
die  like  a  gentleman?'  He  turns  to  Peachey — 
Peachey  that  was  crying  like  a  child.  '  I  've 
brought  you  to  this,  Peachey,'  says  he.  '  Brought 
you  out  of  your  happy  life  to  be  killed  in  Kafiris- 
tan,  where  you  was  late  Commander-in- Chief  of 
the  Emperor's  forces.  Say  you  forgive  me, 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  63 

Peachey.'  '  I  do,'  says  Peachey.  '  Fully  and 
freely  do  I  forgive  you,  Dan.'  'Shake  hands, 
Peachey,'  says  he.  '  I  'm  going  now.'  Out  he 
goes,  looking  neither  right  nor  left,  and  when  he 
was  plumb  in  the  middle  of  those  dizzy  dancing 
ropes, '  Cut,  you  beggars,'  he  shouts ;  and  they  cut, 
and  old  Dan  fell,  turning  round  and  round  and 
round,  twenty  thousand  miles,  for  he  took  half  an 
hour  to  fall  till  he  struck  the  water,  and  I  could 
see  his  body  caught  on  a  rock  with  the  gold  crown 
close  beside. 

"  But  do  you  know  what  they  did  to  Peachey 
between  two  pine-trees?  They  crucified  him,  Sir, 
as  Peachey's  hand  will  show.  They  used  wooden 
pegs  for  his  hands  and  his  feet ;  and  he  did  n't 
die.  He  hung  there  and  screamed,  and  they  took 
him  down  next  day,  and  said  it  was  a  miracle  that 
he  was  n't  dead.  They  took  him  down — poor  old 
Peachey  that  had  n't  done  them  any  harm — that 
hadn't  done  them  any — " 

He  rocked  to  and  fro  and  wept  bitterly,  wiping 
his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his  scarred  hands  and 
moaning  like  a  child  for  some  ten  minutes. 

"  They  was  cruel  enough  to  feed  him  up  in  the 
temple,  because  they  said  he  was  more  of  a  God 
than  old  Daniel  that  was  a  man.  Then  they 
turned  him  out  on  the  snow,  and  told  him  to  go 
home,  and  Peachey  came  home  in  about  a  year, 
begging  along  the  roads  quite  safe ;  for  Daniel 
Dravot  he  walked  before  and  said,  '  Come  along, 
Peachey.  It  's  a  big  thing  we  're  doing.'  The 


64  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

mountains  they  danced  at  night,  and  the  moun- 
tains they  tried  to  fall  on  Peachey's  head,  but 
Dan  he  held  up  his  hand,  and  Peachey  came  along 
bent  double.  He  never  let  go  of  Dan's  hand,  and 
he  never  let  go  of  Dan's  head.  They  gave  it  to 
him  as  a  present  in  the  temple,  to  remind  him  not 
to  come  again ;  and  though  the  crown  was  pure 
gold,  and  Peachey  was  starving,  never  would 
Peachey  sell  the  same.  You  knew  Dravot,  Sir! 
You  knew  Right  Worshipful  Brother  Dravot! 
Look  at  him  now!" 

He  fumbled  in  the  mass  of  rags  round  his  bent 
waist ;  brought  out  a  black  horsehair  bag  embroi- 
dered with  silver  thread ;  and  shook  therefrom  on 
to  my  table — the  dried,  withered  head  of  Daniel 
Dravot!  The  morning  sun,  that  had  long  been 
paling  the  lamps,  struck  the  red  beard  and  blind 
sunken  eyes ;  struck,  too,  a  heavy  circlet  of  gold 
studded  with  raw  turquoises,  that  Carnehan  placed 
tenderly  on  the  battered  temples. 

"You  be'old  now,"  said  Carnehan,  "the  Em- 
peror in  his  'abit  as  he  lived — the  King  of  Kafiristan 
with  his  crown  upon  his  head.  Poor  old  Daniel 
that  was  a  monarch  once ! " 

I  shuddered,  for,  in  spite  of  defacements  mani- 
fold, I  recognised  the  head  of  the  man  of  Marwar 
Junction.  Carnehan  rose  to  go.  I  attempted  to 
stop  him.  He  was  not  fit  to  walk  abroad.  "  Let 
me  take  away  the  whisky,  and  give  me  a  little 
money,"  he  gasped.  "  I  was  a  King  once.  I  '11 
go  to  the  Deputy  Commissioner  and  ask  to  set  in 


THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING.  65 

the  Poorhouse  till  I  get  my  health.  No,  thank 
you,  I  can't  wait  till  you  get  a  carriage  for  me. 
I  've  urgent  private  affairs — in  the  south — at 
Mar  war." 

He  shambled  out  of  the  office  and  departed  in 
the  direction  of  the  Deputy  Commissioner's  house. 
That  day  at  noon  I  had  occasion  to  go  down  the 
blinding-hot  Mall,  and  I  saw  a  crooked  man 
crawling  along  the  white  dust  of  the  roadside,  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  quavering  dolorously  after  the 
fashion  of  street-singers  at  Home.  There  was  not 
a  soul  in  sight,  and  he  was  out  of  all  possible  ear- 
shot of  the  houses.  And  he  sang  through  his  nose, 
turning  his  head  from  right  to  left : 

"  The  Son  of  Man  goes  forth  to  war, 

A  golden  crown  to  gain ; 
His  blood-red  banner  streams  afar — 
Who  follows  in  His  train?  " 

I  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  put  the  poor 
wretch  into  my  carriage  and  drove  him  off  to  the 
nearest  missionary  for  eventual  transfer  to  the 
Asylum.  He  repeated  the  hymn  twice  while  he 
was  with  me,  whom  he  did  not  in  the  least  recog- 
nise, and  I  left  him  singing  it  to  the  missionary. 

Two  days  later  I  inquired  after  his  welfare  of 
the  Superintendent  of  the  Asylum. 

"  He  was  admitted  suffering  from  sunstroke. 
He  died  early  yesterday  morning,"  said  the  Super- 
intendent. "  Is  it  true  that  he  was  half  an  hour 
bareheaded  in  the  sun  at  midday?" 


66  THE    MAN    WHO    WOULD    BE    KING. 

"  Yes,"  said  I ;  "  but  do  you  happen  to  know  if 
he  had  anything  upon  him  by  any  chance  when  he 
died?" 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge,"  said  the  Superinten- 
dent. 

And  there  the  matter  rests. 


TAJIMA 

BY 

MISS  MITFORD 


TAJIMA 

BY    MISS    MITFORD 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  a  certain  rdnin,  Tajima 
Shume"  by  name,  an  able  and  well-read  man, 
being  on  his  travels  to  see  the  world,  went  up  to 
Kiyoto  by  the  Tokaido.1  One  day,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Nagoya,  in  the  province  of  Owari, 
he  fell  in  with  a  wandering  priest,  with  whom  he 
entered  into  conversation.  Finding  that  they  were 
bound  for  the  same  place,  they  agreed  to  travel  to- 
gether, beguiling  their  weary  way  by  pleasant  talk 
on  divers  matters ;  and  so  by  degrees,  as  they  be- 
came more  intimate,  they  began  to  speak  without 
restraint  about  their  private  affairs ;  and  the  priest, 
trusting  thoroughly  in  the  honour  of  his  companion, 
told  him  the  object  of  his  journey. 

"  For  some  time  past,"  said  he,  "  I  have  nour- 
ished a  wish  that  has  engrossed  all  my  thoughts ; 
for  I  am  bent  on  setting  up  a  molten  image  in 
honour  of  Buddha ;  with  this  object  I  have  wan- 
dered through  various  provinces  collecting  alms, 
and  (who  knows  by  what  weary  toil?)  we  have 

1  The  road  of  the  Eastern  Sea,  the  famous  highroad 
leading  from  Kiyoto  to  Yedo.  The  name  is  also  used  to 
indicate  the  provinces  through  which  it  runs. 


yo  TAJ  I  MA. 

succeeded  in  amassing  two  hundred  ounces  of 
silver — enough,  I  trust,  to  erect  a  handsome  bronze 
figure." 

What  says  the  proverb?  "He  who  bears  a 
jewel  in  his  bosom  bears  poison."  Hardly  had 
the  r6nin  heard  these  words  of  the  priest  than  an 
evil  heart  arose  within  him,  and  he  thought  to 
himself,  "  Man's  life,  from  the  womb  to  the  grave, 
is  made  up  of  good  and  of  ill  luck.  Here  am  I, 
nearly  forty  years  old,  a  wanderer,  without  a  call- 
ing, or  even  a  hope  of  advancement  in  the  world. 
To  be  sure,  it  seems  a  shame ;  yet  if  I  could  steal 
the  money  this  priest  is  boasting  about,  I  could  live 
at  ease  for  the  rest  of  my  days ; "  and  so  he  began 
casting  about  how  best  he  might  compass  his  pur- 
pose. But  the  priest,  far  from  guessing  the  drift 
of  his  comrade's  thoughts,  journeyed  cheerfully  on 
till  they  reached  the  town  of  Kuana.  Here  there 
is  an  arm  of  the  sea,  which  is  crossed  in  ferry- 
boats, that  start  as  soon  as  some  twenty  or  thirty 
passengers  are  gathered  together;  and  in  one  of 
these  boats  the  two  travellers  embarked.  About 
half-way  across,  the  priest  was  taken  with  a  sudden 
necessity  to  go  to  the  side  of  the  boat ;  and  the 
ronin,  following  him,  tripped  him  up  while  no  one 
was  looking,  and  flung  him  into  the  sea.  When 
the  boatmen  and  passengers  heard  the  splash,  and 
saw  the  priest  struggling  in  the  water,  they  were 
afraid,  and  made  every  effort  to  save  him  ;  but  the 
wind  was  fair,  and  the  boat  running  swiftly  under 
the  bellying  sails ;  so  they  were  soon  a  few  hundred 


TAJ  I  MA.  7  1 

yards  off  from  the  drowning  man,  who  sank  before 
the  boat  could  be  turned  to  rescue  him. 

When  he  saw  this,  the  ronin  feigned  the  utmost 
grief  and  dismay,  and  said  to  his  fellow-passen- 
gers, "This  priest,  whom  we  have  just  lost,  was 
my  cousin ;  he  was  going  to  Kiyoto,  to  visit  the 
shrine  of  his  patron ;  and  as  I  happened  to  have 
business  there  as  well,  we  settled  to  travel  to- 
gether. Now,  alas!  by  this  misfortune,  my  cousin 
is  dead,  and  I  am  left  alone." 

He  spoke  so  feelingly,  and  wept  so  freely,  that 
the  passengers  believed  his  story,  and  pitied  and 
tried  to  comfort  him.  Then  the  r6nin  said  to  the 
boatmen : 

"  We  ought,  by  rights,  to  report  this  matter  to 
the  authorities ;  but  as  I  am  pressed  for  time,  and 
the  business  might  bring  trouble  on  yourselves  as 
well,  perhaps  we  had  better  hush  it  up  for  the 
present ;  and  I  will  at  once  go  on  to  Kiyoto  and 
tell  my  cousin's  patron,  besides  writing  home  about 
it.  What  think  you,  gentlemen?  "  added  he,  turn- 
ing to  the  other  travellers. 

They,  of  course,  were  only  too  glad  to  avoid 
any  hindrance  to  their  onward  journey,  and  all 
with  one  voice  agreed  to  what  the  ronin  had  pro- 
posed ;  and  so  the  matter  was  settled.  When,  at 
length,  they  reached  the  shore,  they  left  the  boat, 
and  every  man  went  his  way  ;  but  the  ronin,  over- 
joyed in  his  heart,  took  the  wandering  priest's 
luggage,  and,  putting  it  with  his  own,  pursued  his 
journey  to  Kiyoto. 


72  TAJ  I  MA. 

On  reaching  the  capital,  the  r6nin  changed  his 
name  from  Shume  to  Tokubei,  and,  giving  up  his 
position  as  a  samurai,  turned  merchant,  and  traded 
with  the  dead  man's  money.  Fortune  favouring 
his  speculations,  he  began  to  amass  great  wealth, 
and  lived  at  his  ease,  denying  himself  nothing; 
and  in  course  of  time  he  married  a  wife,  who  bore 
him  a  child. 

Thus  the  days  and  months  wore  on,  till  one  fine 
summer's  night,  some  three  years  after  the  priest's 
death,  Tokubei  stepped  out  on  to  the  veranda  of 
his  house  to  enjoy  the  cool  air  and  the  beauty  of 
the  moonlight.  Feeling  dull  and  lonely,  he  began 
musing  over  all  kinds  of  things,  when  on  a  sudden 
the  deed  of  murder  and  theft,  done  so  long  ago, 
vividly  recurred  to  his  memory,  and  he  thought  to 
himself,  "  Here  am  I,  grown  rich  and  fat  on  the 
money  I  wantonly  stole.  Since  then,  all  has  gone 
well  with  me ;  yet,  had  I  not  been  poor,  I  had 
never  turned  assassin  nor  thief.  Woe  betide  me! 
what  a  pity  it  was! "  and  as  he  was  revolving  the 
matter  in  his  mind,  a  feeling  of  remorse  came  over 
him,  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do.  While  his  con- 
science thus  smote  him,  he  suddenly,  to  his  utter 
amazement,  beheld  the  faint  outline  of  a  man 
standing  near  a  fir-tree  in  the  garden ;  on  looking 
more  attentively,  he  perceived  that  the  man's 
whole  body  was  thin  and  worn,  and  the  eyes 
sunken  and  dim ;  and  in  that  poor  ghost  that  was 
before  him  he  recognised  the  very  priest  whom  he 
had  thrown  into  the  sea  at  Kuana.  Chilled  with 


TAJIMA.  73 

horror,  he  looked  again,  and  saw  that  the  priest 
was  smiling  in  scorn.  He  would  have  fled  into 
the  house,  but  the  ghost  stretched  forth  its  withered 
arm,  and,  clutching  the  back  of  his  neck,  scowled 
at  him  with  a  vindictive  glare  and  a  hideous 
ghastliness  of  mien  so  unspeakably  awful  that  any 
ordinary  man  would  have  swooned  with  fear.  But 
Tokubei,  tradesman  though  he  was,  had  once  been 
a  soldier,  and  was  not  easily  matched  for  daring ; 
so  he  shook  off  the  ghost,  and,  leaping  into  the 
room  for  his  dirk,  laid  about  him  boldly  enough ; 
but,  strike  as  he  would,  the  spirit,  fading  into  the 
air,  eluded  his  blows,  and  suddenly  reappeared 
only  to  vanish  again;  and  from  that  time  forth 
Tokubei  knew  no  rest,  and  was  haunted  night  and 
day. 

At  length,  undone  by  such  ceaseless  vexation, 
Tokubei  fell  ill,  and  kept  muttering,  "  Oh,  misery! 
misery!  the  wandering  priest  is  coming  to  torture 
me! "  Hearing  his  moans  and  the  disturbance  he 
made,  the  people  in  the  house  fancied  he  was  mad, 
and  called  in  a  physician,  who  prescribed  for  him. 
But  neither  pill  nor  potion  could  cure  Tokubei, 
whose  strange  frenzy  soon  became  the  talk  of  the 
whole  neighbourhood. 

Now  it  chanced  that  the  story  reached  the  ears  of 
a  certain  wandering  priest  who  lodged  in  the  next 
street.  When  he  heard  the  particulars,  this  priest 
gravely  shook  his  head  as  though  he  knew  all 
about  it,  and  sent  a  friend  to  Tokubei's  house  to 
say  that  a  wandering  priest,  dwelling  hard  by,  had 


74  TAJ  I  MA. 

heard  of  his  illness,  and,  were  it  never  so  grievous, 
would  undertake  to  heal  it  by  means  of  his  pray- 
ers; and  Tokubei's  wife,  driven  half  wild  by  her 
husband's  sickness,  lost  not  a  moment  in  sending  for 
the  priest  and  taking  him  into  the  sick  man's  room. 

But  no  sooner  did  Tokubei  see  the  priest  than 
he  yelled  out,  "  Help!  help!  Here  is  the  wander- 
ing priest  come  to  torment  me  again.  Forgive! 
forgive ! "  and  hiding  his  head  under  the  coverlet, 
he  lay  quivering  all  over.  Then  the  priest  turned 
all  present  out  of  the  room,  put  his  mouth  to  the 
affrighted  man's  ear,  and  whispered : 

"  Three  years  ago,  at  the  Kuana  ferry,  you  flung 
me  into  the  water;  and  well  you  remember  it." 

But  Tokubei  was  speechless,  and  could  only 
quake  with  fear. 

"  Happily,"  continued  the  priest,  "  I  had  learned 
to  swim  and  to  dive  as  a  boy ;  so  I  reached  the 
shore,  and,  after  wandering  through  many  prov- 
inces, succeeded  in  setting  up  a  bronze  figure  to 
Buddha,  thus  fulfilling  the  wish  of  my  heart.  On 
my  journey  homeward,  I  took  a  lodging  in  the 
next  street,  and  there  heard  of  your  marvellous  ail- 
ment. Thinking  I  could  divine  its  cause,  I  came 
to  see  you,  and  am  glad  to  find  I  was  not  mis- 
taken. You  have  done  a  hateful  deed ;  but  am  I 
not  a  priest,  and  have  I  not  forsaken  the  things  of 
this  world,  and  would  it  not  ill  become  me  to  bear 
malice?  Repent,  therefore,  and  abandon  your 
evil  ways.  To  see  you  do  so  I  should  esteem  the 
height  of  happiness.  Be  of  good  cheer,  now,  and 


TAJIMA.  75 

look  me  in  the  face,  and  you  will  see  that  I  am 
really  a  living  man,  and  no  vengeful  goblin  come 
to  torment  you." 

Seeing  he  had  no  ghost  to  deal  with,  and  over- 
whelmed by  the  priest's  kindness,  Tokubei  burst 
into  tears,  and  answered,  "  Indeed,  indeed,  I  don't 
know  what  to  say.  In  a  fit  of  madness  I  was 
tempted  to  kill  and  rob  you.  Fortune  befriended 
me  ever  after;  but  the  richer  I  grew,  the  more 
keenly  I  felt  how  wicked  I  had  been,  and  the 
more  I  foresaw  that  my  victim's  vengeance  would 
some  day  overtake  me.  Haunted  by  this  thought, 
I  lost  my  nerve,  till  one  night  I  beheld  your  spirit, 
and  from  that  time  forth  fell  ill.  But  how  you 
managed  to  escape,  and  are  still  alive,  is  more  than 
I  can  understand." 

"A  guilty  man,"  said  the  priest,  with  a  smile, 
"  shudders  at  the  rustling  of  the  wind  or  the  chat- 
tering of  a  stork's  beak ;  a  murderer's  conscience 
preys  upon  his  mind  till  he  sees  what  is  not. 
Poverty  drives  a  man  to  crimes  which  he  repents 
of  in  his  wealth.  How  true  is  the  doctrine  of 
Moshi,1  that  the  heart  of  man,  pure  by  nature,  is 
corrupted  by  circumstances !  " 

Thus  he  held  forth  ;  and  Tokubei,  who  had  long 
since  repented  of  his  crime,  implored  forgiveness, 
and  gave  him  a  large  sum  of  money,  saying,  "  Half 
of  this  is  the  amount  I  stole  from  you  three  years 
since ;  the  other  half  I  entreat  you  to  accept  as 
interest,  or  as  a  gift." 

1  Mencius. 


76  TAJ  I  MA., 

The  priest  at  first  refused  the  money;  but 
Tokubei  insisted  on  his  accepting  it,  and  did  all 
he  could  to  detain  him,  but  in  vain ;  for  the  priest 
went  his  way,  and  bestowed  the  money  on  the  poor 
and  needy.  As  for  Tokubei  himself,  he  soon  shook 
off  his  disorder,  and  thenceforward  lived  at  peace 
with  all  men,  revered  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
and  ever  intent  on  good  and  charitable  deeds. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  GRADUATE 


BY 

R.  K.  DOUGLAS 


w 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  GRADUATE 

BY  R.   K.   DOUGLAS 

HO  among  the  three  hundred  million  sons 
of  Han  does  not  know  the  saying : 

There  's  Paradise  above,  't  is  true ; 
But  here  below  we  've  Hang  and  Soo?  * 


And  though  no  one  will  deny  the  beauty  of  those 
far-famed  cities,  they  cannot  compare  in  grandeur 
of  situation  and  boldness  of  features  with  many  of 
the  towns  in  the  province  of  the  "  Four  Streams." 
Foremost  among  the  favoured  spots  of  this  part 
of  the  empire  is  Mienchu,  which,  as  its  name  im- 
plies, is  celebrated  for  the  silky  bamboos  which 
grow  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood.  These 
form,  however,  only  one  of  the  features  of  its  love- 
liness. Situated  at  the  foot  of  a  range  of  moun- 
tains which  rise  through  all  the  gradations  from 
rich  and  abundant  verdure  to  the  region  of  eternal 
snow,  it  lies  embosomed  in  groves  of  beech, 
cypress,  and  bamboo,  through  the  leafy  screens  of 
which  rise  the  upturned  yellow  roofs  of  the  temples 
and  official  residences,  which  dot  the  landscape 
1  Hangchow  and  Soochow. 


80  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

like  golden  islands  in  an  emerald  sea ;  while  be- 
yond the  wall  hurries,  between  high  and  rugged 
banks,  the  tributary  of  the  Fu  River,  which  bears 
to  the  mighty  waters  of  the  Yangtsze.-Kiang  the 
goods  and  passengers  which  seek  an  outlet  to  the 
eastern  provinces. 

The  streets  within  the  walls  of  the  city  are 
scenes  of  life  and  bustle,  while  in  the  suburbs 
stand  the  residences  of  those  who  can  afford  to 
live  in  peace  and  quiet,  undisturbed  by  the  clamour 
of  the  Les  and  Changs  l  of  the  town.  There,  in 
a  situation  which  the  Son  of  Heaven  might  envy, 
stands  the  official  residence  of  Colonel  Wen. 
Outwardly  it  has  all  the  appearance  of  a  grandee's 
palace,  and  within  the  massive  boundary-walls 
which  surround  it,  the  courtyards,  halls,  grounds, 
summer-houses,  and  pavilions  are  not  to  be  ex- 
ceeded in  grandeur  and  beauty.  The  office  which 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  Colonel  Wen  was  one  of 
the  most  sought  after  in  the  province,  and  com- 
monly only  fell  to  officers  of  distinction.  Though 
not  without  fame  in  the  field,  Colonel  Wen's  main 
claim  to  honour  lay  in  the  high  degrees  he  had 
taken  in  the  examinations.  His  literary  acquire- 
ments gained  him  friends  among  the  civil  officers 
of  the  district,  and  the  position  he  occupied  was 
altogether  one  of  exceptional  dignity. 

Unfortunately,  his  first  wife  had  died,  leaving 
only  a  daughter  to  keep  her  memory  alive;  but 

1  I.e.,  the  people.  Le  and  Chang  are  the  two  common- 
est names  in  China. 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  8 1 

at  the  time  when  our  story  qpens,  his  second 
spouse,  more  kind  than  his  first,  had  presented  him 
with  a  much-desired  son.  The  mother  of  this 
boy  was  one  of  those  bright,  pretty,  gay  creatures 
who  commonly  gain  the  affections  of  men  much 
older  than  themselves.  She  sang  in  the  most  fault- 
less falsetto,  she  played  the  guitar  with  taste  and 
expression,  and  she  danced  with  grace  and  agility. 
What  wonder,  then,  that  when  the  colonel  re- 
turned from  his  tours  of  inspection  and  parades, 
weary  with  travel  and  dust,  he  found  relief  and 
relaxation  in  the  joyous  company  of  Hyacinth! 
And  was  she  not  also  the  mother  of  his  son?  Next 
to  herself,  there  can  be  no  question  that  this  young 
gentleman  held  the  chief  place  in  the  colonel's  af- 
fections ;  while  poor  Jasmine,  his  daughter  by  his 
first  venture,  was  left  very  much  to  her  own  re- 
sources. No  one  troubled  themselves  about  what 
she  did,  and  she  was  allowed,  as  she  grew  up,  to 
follow  her  own  pursuits  and  to  give  rein  to  her 
fancies  without  let  or  hindrance.  From  her  earliest 
childhood  one  of  her  lonely  amusements  had  been 
to  dress  as  a  boy,  and  so  unchecked  had  the  habit 
become  that  she  gradually  drifted  into  the  charac- 
ter which  she  had  chosen  to  assume.  She  even 
persuaded  her  father  to  let  her  go  to  the  neighbour- 
ing boys'  school.  Her  mother  had  died  before 
the  colonel  had  been  posted  to  Mienchu,  and 
among  the  people  of  that  place,  who  had  always 
seen  her  in  boy's  attire,  she  was  regarded  as  an 
adopted  son  of  her  father.  Hyacinth  was  only 


82  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

too  glad  to  get  her  out  of  the  way  as  much  as 
possible,  and  so  encouraged  the  idea  of  allowing 
her  to  learn  to  read  and  write  in  the  company  of 
their  neighbours'  urchins. 

Being  bright  and  clever,  she  soon  gained  an  in- 
tellectual lead  among  the  boys,  and  her  uncommon 
beauty,  coupled  with  the  magnetism  belonging  to 
her  sex,  secured  for  her  a  popularity  which  almost 
amounted  to  adoration.  She  was  tall  for  her  age, 
as  are  most  young  daughters  of  Han  ;  and  her  per- 
fectly oval  face,  almond-shaped  eyes,  willow-leaf 
eyebrows,  small,  well-shaped  mouth,  brilliantly 
white  teeth,  and  raven-black  hair,  completed  a  face 
and  figure  which  would  have  been  noticeable  any- 
where. By  the  boys  she  was  worshipped,  and  no 
undertaking  was  too  difficult  or  too  troublesome  if 
it  was  to  give  pleasure  to  Tsunk'ing,  or  the  "  Young 
Noble,"  as  she  was  called  ;  for  to  have  answered  to 
the  name  of  Jasmine  would  have  been  to  proclaim 
her  sex  at  once.  Even  the  grim  old  master  smiled 
at  her  through  his  horn  spectacles  as  she  entered 
the  school-house  of  a  morning,  and  any  graceful 
turn  in  her  poetry  or  scholarly  diction  in  her  prose 
was  sure  to  win  for  her  his  unsparing  praise. 
Many  an  evening  he  invited  the  "young  noble" 
to  his  house  to  read  over  chapters  from  Confucius 
and  the  poems  of  Le  Taipoh ;  and  years  after- 
ward, when  he  died,  among  his  most  cherished 
papers  were  found  odes  signed  by  Tsunk'ing,  in 
which  there  was  a  good  deal  about  bending  wil- 
lows, light,  flickering  bamboos,  horned  moons,  wild 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  83 

geese,  the  sound  of  a  flute  on  a  rainy  day,  and  the 
pleasures  of  wine,  in  strict  accord  with  the  models 
set  forth  in  the  "Aids  to  Poetry-making"  which 
are  common  in  the  land. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  the  indifference  with  which 
she  was  treated  in  her  home,  the  favour  with  which 
she  was  regarded  abroad  would  have  been  most 
prejudicial  to  Jasmine;  but  any  conceit  which 
might  have  been  engendered  in  the  school-house 
was  speedily  counteracted  when  she  got  within  the 
portals  of  the  colonel's  domain.  Coming  into  the 
presence  of  her  father  and  his  wife,  with  all  the  in- 
cense of  kindness,  affection,  and,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, flattery,  with  which  she  was  surrounded  by 
her  school-fellows,  fresh  about  her,  was  like  stepping 
into  a  cold  bath.  Wholesome  and  invigorating  the 
change  may  have  been,  but  it  was  very  unpleasant, 
and  Jasmine  often  longed  to  be  alone  to  give  vent 
to  her  feelings  in  tears. 

One  deep  consolation  she  had,  however:  she 
was  a  devoted  student,  and  in  the  society  of  her 
books  she  forgot  the  callousness  of  her  parents, 
and,  living  in  imagination  in  the  bygone  annals  of 
the  empire,  she  was  able  to  take  part,  as  it  were,  in 
the  great  deeds  which  mark  the  past  history  of  the 
state,  and  to  enjoy  the  converse  and  society  of  the 
sages  and  poets  of  antiquity.  When  the  time  came 
that  she  had  gained  all  the  knowledge  which  the 
old  schoolmaster  could  impart  to  her,  she  left  the 
school,  and  formed  a  reading-party  with  two  youths 
of  her  own  age.  These  lads,  by  name  Wei  and 


84  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

Tu,  had  been  her  school-fellows,  and  were  delighted 
at  obtaining  her  promise  to  join  them  in  their 
studies.  So  industriously  were  these  pursued  that 
the  three  friends  succeeded  in  taking  their  B.  A.  de- 
gree at  the  next  examination,  and,  encouraged  by 
this  success,  determined  to  venture  on  a  struggle 
for  a  still  higher  distinction. 

Though  at  one  in  their  affection  for  Jasmine, 
Tu  and  Wei  were  unlike  in  everything  else,  which 
probably  accounted  for  the  friendship  which 
existed  between  them.  Wei  was  the  more  clever 
of  the  two.  He  wrote  poetry  with  ease  and 
fluency,  and  his  essays  were  marked  by  correct- 
ness of  style  and  aptness  of  quotation.  But  there 
was  a  want  of  strength  in  his  character.  He  was 
exceedingly  vain,  and  was  always  seeking  to  excite 
admiration  among  his  companions.  This  unhappy 
failing  made  him  very  susceptible  of  adverse 
criticism,  and  at  the  same  time  extremely  jealous 
of  any  one  who  might  happen  to  excel  him  in  any 
way.  Tu,  on  the  other  hand,  though  not  so  in- 
tellectually favoured,  had  a  rough  kind  of  original- 
ity, which  always  secured  for  his  exercises  a 
respectful  attention,  and  made  him  at  all  times  an 
agreeable  companion.  Having  no  exaggerated 
ideas  of  his  capabilities,  he  never  strove  to  appear 
otherwise  than  he  was,  and  being  quite  indepen- 
dent of  the  opinions  of  others,  he  was  always 
natural.  Thus  he  was  one  who  was  sought  out  by 
his  friends,  and  was  best  esteemed  by  those  whose 
esteem  was  best  worth  having.  In  outward  ap- 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  85 

pearance  the  youths  were  as  different  as  their 
characters  were  diverse.  Wei  was  decidedly  good- 
looking,  but  of  a  kind  of  beauty  which  suggested 
neither  rest  nor  sincerity ;  while  in  Tu's  features, 
though  there  was  less  grace,  the  want  was  fully 
compensated  for  by  the  strength  and  honest  firm- 
ness of  his  countenance. 

For  both  these  young  men  Jasmine  had  a  liking, 
but  there  was  no  question  as  to  which  she  pre- 
ferred. As  she  herself  said,  "Wei  is  pleasant 
enough  as  a  companion,  but  if  I  had  to  look  to 
one  of  them  for  an  act  of  true  friendship — or  as 
a  lover,"  she  mentally  added — "I  should  turn  at 
once  to  Tu."  It  was  one  of  her  amusements  to 
compare  the  young  men  in  her  mind,  and  one  day 
when  so  occupied  Tu  suddenly  looked  up  from  his 
book  and  said  to  her: 

"  What  a  pity  it  is  that  the  gods  have  made  us 
both  men!  If  /were  a  woman,  the  object  of  my 
heart  would  be  to  be  your  wife,  and  if  you  were  a 
woman,  there  is  nothing  I  should  like  better  than 
to  be  your  husband." 

Jasmine  blushed  up  to  the  roots  of  her  hair  at 
having  her  own  thoughts  thus  capped,  as  it  were ; 
but  before  she  could  answer,  Wei  broke  in  with : 

"  What  nonsense  you  talk !  And  why,  I  should 
like  to  know,  should  you  be  the  only  one  the 
'  young  noble '  might  choose,  supposing  he  be- 
longed to  the  other  sex?  " 

"  You  are  both  talking  nonsense,"  said  Jasmine, 
who  had  had  time  to  recover  her  composure,  "  and 


86  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

remind  me  of  my  two  old  childless  aunts,"  she 
added,  laughing,  "who  are  always  quarrelling 
about  the  names  they  would  have  given  their 
children  if  the  goddess  Kwanyin  had  granted  them 
any  half  a  century  ago.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we 
are  three  friends  reading  for  our  M.A.  degrees, 
neither  more  nor  less.  And  I  will  trouble  you,  my 
elder  brother,"  she  added,  turning  to  Tu,  "  to  ex- 
plain to  me  what  the  poet  means  by  the  expres- 
sion '  tuneful  Tung '  in  the  line : 

'  The  greedy  flames  devour  the  tuneful  Tung.'  " 

A  learned  disquisition  by  Tu  on  the  celebrated 
musician  who  recognised  the  sonorous  qualities  of 
a  piece  of  Tung  timber  burning  in  the  kitchen  fire 
effectually  diverted  the  conversation  from  the  in- 
convenient direction  it  had  taken,  and  shortly  af- 
terward Jasmine  took  her  leave. 

Haunted  by  the  thought  of  what  had  passed, 
she  wandered  on  to  the  veranda  of  her  archery  pa- 
vilion, and  while  gazing  half  unconsciously  heaven- 
ward her  eyes  were  attracted  by  a  hawk  which 
flew  past  and  alighted  on  a  tree  beyond  the 
boundary-wall,  and  in  front  of  the  study  she  had 
lately  left.  In  a  restless  and  thoughtless  mood, 
she  took  up  her  bow  and  arrow,  and  with  unerring 
aim  compassed  the  death  of  her  victim.  "No 
sooner,  however,  had  the  hawk  fallen,  carrying  the 
arrow  with  it,  than  she  remembered  that  her  name 
was  inscribed  on  the  shaft,  and  fearing  lest  it 
should  be  found  by  either  Wei  or  Tu,  she  hurried 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  87 

round  in  the  hope  of  recovering  it.  But  she  was 
too  late.  On  approaching  the  study,  she  found 
Tu  in  the  garden  in  front,  examining  the  bird  and 
arrow. 

"  Look,"  he  said,  as  he  saw  her  coming,  "  what 
a  good  shot  some  one  has  made !  and  whoever  it 
is,  he  has  a  due  appreciation  of  his  own  skill. 
Listen  to  these  lines  which  are  scraped  on  the 
arrow : 


'  Do  not  lightly  draw  your  bow ; 
But  if  you  must,  bring  down  your 


foe.'  " 


Jasmine  was  glad  enough  to  find  that  he  had 
not  discovered  her  name,  and  eagerly  exchanged 
banter  with  him  on  the  conceit  of  the  owner  of  the 
arrow.  But  before  she  could  recover  it,  Wei,  who 
had  heard  the  talking  and  laughter,  joined  them, 
and  took  the  arrow  out  of  Tu's  hand  to  examine 
it.  Just  at  that  moment  a  messenger  came  to 
summon  Tu  to  his  father's  presence,  and  he  had 
no  sooner  gone  than  Wei  exclaimed : 

"  But,  see,  here  is  the  name  of  the  mysterious 
owner  of  the  arrow,  and,  as  I  live,  it  is  a  girl's 
name — Jasmine!  Who,  among  the  goddesses  of 
heaven,  can  Jasmine  be?  " 

"  Oh,  I  will  take  the  arrow  then,"  said  Jasmine. 
"  It  must  belong  to  my  sister.  That  is  her  name." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  had  a  sister,"  said 
Wei. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  have,"  answered  Jasmine,  quite  for- 
getful of  the  celebrated  dictum  of  Confucius :  "  Be 


88  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

truthful."  "  She  is  just  one  year  younger  than  I 
am,"  she  added,  thinking  it  well  to  be  circum- 
stantial. 

"  Why  have  you  never  mentioned  her?  "  asked 
Wei,  with  animation.  "  What  is  she  like  ?  Is  she 
anything  like  you?  " 

"  She  is  the  very  image  of  me." 

"  What!      In  height  and  features  and  ways?  " 

"  The  very  image,  so  that  people  have  often  said 
that  if  we  changed  clothes  each  might  pass  for  the 
other." 

"What  a  good-looking  girl  she  must  be!"  said 
Wei,  laughing.  "  But,  seriously,  I  have  not,  as 
you  know,  yet  set  up  a  household ;  and  if  your 
sister  has  not  received  bridal  presents,  I  would  beg 
to  be  allowed  to  invite  her  to  enter  my  lowly  habi- 
tation. What  does  my  elder  brother  say  to  my 
proposal  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  my  sister  would  feel  about 
it,"  said  Jasmine.  "  I  would  never  answer  for 
a  girl,  if  I  lived  to  be  as  old  as  the  God  of 
Longevity." 

"  Will  you  find  out  for  me?  " 

"  Certainly  I  will.  But  remember,  not  a  word 
must  be  mentioned  on  the  subject  to  my  father, 
or,  in  fact,  to  anybody,  until  I  give  you  leave." 

"  So  long  as  my  elder  brother  will  undertake  for 
me,  I  will  promise  anything,"  said  the  delighted 
Wei.  "  I  already  feel  as  though  I  were  nine 
tenths  of  the  way  to  the  abode  of  the  phenix. 
Take  this  box  of  precious  ointment  to  your  sister 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  89 

as  an  earnest  of  my  intentions,  and  I  will  keep  the 
arrow  as  a  token  from  her  until  she  demands  its 
return.  I  feel  inclined  to  express  myself  in  verse. 
May  I?" 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Jasmine,  laughing. 

Thus  encouraged,  Wei  improvised  as  follows : 

"  'T  was  sung  of  old  that  Lofu  had  no  mate, 
Though  Che  was  willing ;  for  no  word  was  said. 
At  last  an  arrow  like  a  herald  came, 
And  now  an  honoured  brother  lends  his  aid." 

*'  Excellent,"  said  Jasmine,  laughing.  "  With 
such  a  poetic  gift  as  you  possess,  you  certainly 
deserve  a  better  fate  than  befell  Lofu." 

From  this  day  the  idea  of  marrying  Jasmine's 
sister  possessed  the  soul  of  Wei.  But  not  a  word 
did  he  say  to  Tu  on  the  matter,  for  he  was  con- 
scious that,  as  Tu  was  the  first  to  pick  up  the  arrow 
through  which  he  had  become  acquainted  with  the 
existence  of  Jasmine's  sister,  his  friend  might  possi- 
bly lay  a  claim  to  her  hand.  To  Jasmine  also  the 
subject  was  an  absorbing  one.  She  felt  that  she  was 
becomingmost  unpleasantly  involved  in  ariskymat- 
ter,  and  that,  if  the  time  should  ever  come  when  she 
should  have  to  make  an  explanation,  she  might  in 
honour  be  compelled  to  marry  Wei — a  prospect 
which  rilled  her  with  dismay.  The  turn  events  had 
taken  had  made  her  analyse  her  feelings  more  than 
she  had  ever  done  before,  and  the  process  made 
her  doubly  conscious  of  the  depth  of  her  affection 
for  Tu.  "  A  horse,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  cannot 


90  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

carry  two  saddles,  and  a  woman  cannot  marry 
more  than  one  man."  Wise  as  this  saw  was,  it  did 
not  help  her  out  of  her  difficulty,  and  she  turned 
to  the  chapter  of  accidents,  and  determined  to  trust 
to  time,  that  old  disposer  of  events,  to  settle  the 
matter.  But  Wei  was  inclined  to  be  impatient, 
and  Jasmine  was  obliged  to  resort  to  more  of  those 
departures  from  truth  which  circumstances  had 
forced  upon  this  generally  very  upright  young 
lady. 

"  I  have  consulted  my  father  on  the  subject," 
she  said  to  the  expectant  Wei,  "  and  he  insists  on 
your  waiting  until  the  autumn  examination  is  over. 
He  has  every  confidence  that  you  will  then  take 
your  M.A.  degree,  and  your  marriage  will,  he 
hopes,  put  the  coping-stone  on  your  happiness  and 
honour." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,"  said  Wei ;  "  but  autumn 
is  a  long  time  hence,  and  how  do  I  know  that 
your  sister  may  not  change  her  mind?" 

"  Has  not  your  younger  brother  undertaken  to 
look  after  your  interests,  and  cannot  you  trust  him 
to  do  his  best  on  your  behalf?  " 

"  I  can  trust  my  elder  brother  with  anything  in 
the  world.  It  is  your  sister  that  I  am  afraid  of," 
said  Wei.  "  But  since  you  will  undertake  for 
her—" 

"  No,  no,"  said  Jasmine,  laughing,  "  I  did  not 
say  that  I  would  undertake  for  her.  A  man  who 
answers  for  a  woman  deserves  to  have  '  fool ' 
written  on  his  forehead." 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  91 

"  Well,  at  all  events,  I  will  be  content  to  leave 
the  matter  in  your  hands,"  said  Wei. 

At  last  the  time  of  the  autumn  examination 
drew  near,  and  Tu  and  Wei  made  preparations  for 
their  departure  to  the  provincial  capital.  They 
were  both  bitterly  disappointed  when  Jasmine  an- 
nounced that  she  was  not  going  up  that  time. 
This  determination  was  the  result  of  a  conference 
with  her  father.  She  had  pointed  out  to  the 
colonel  that  if  she  passed  and  took  her  M.A.  de- 
gree she  might  be  called  upon  to  take  office  at 
any  time,  and  that  then  she  would  be  compelled 
to  confess  her  sex ;  and  as  she  was  by  no  means 
disposed  to  give  up  the  freedom  which  her  doublet 
and  hose  conferred  upon  her,  it  was  agreed  be- 
tween them  that  she  should  plead  illness  and  not 
go  up.  Her  two  friends,  therefore,  went  alone, 
and  brilliant  success  attended  their  venture.  They 
both  passed  with  honours,  and  returned  to  Mien- 
chu  to  receive  the  congratulations  of  their  friends. 
Jasmine's  delight  was  very  genuine,  more  especially 
as  regarded  Tu,  and  the  first  evening  was  spent 
by  the  three  students  in  joyous  converse  and  in 
confident  anticipations  of  the  future.  As  Jasmine 
took  leave  of  the  two  new  M.A.'s,  Wei  followed 
her  to  the  outer  door  and  whispered  at  parting : 

"  I  am  coming  to-morrow  to  make  my  formal 
proposal  to  your  sister." 

Jasmine  had  no  time  to  answer,  but  went  home 
full  of  anxious  and  disturbed  thoughts,  which  were 
destined  to  take  a  more  tragic  turn  than  she  had 


92  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

ever  anticipated  even  in  her  most  gloomy  mo- 
ments. The  same  cruel  fate  had  also  decreed 
that  Wei's  proposal  was  to  be  suspended,  like 
Buddha,  between  heaven  and  earth.  The  blow 
fell  upon  him  when  he  was  attiring  himself  in  the 
garments  of  his  new  degree,  in  preparation  for  his 
visit.  He  was  in  the  act  of  tying  his  sash  and  ap- 
pending to  it  his  purse  and  trinkets,  when  Jasmine 
burst  into  the  young  men's  study,  looking  deadly 
pale  and  bearing  traces  of  acute  mental  distress  on 
her  usually  bright  and  joyous  countenance. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  Tu,  with  almost 
as  much  agitation  as  was  shown  by  Jasmine.  "  Tell 
me  what  has  happened." 

"Oh,  my  father,  my  poor  father!"  sobbed 
Jasmine. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  your  father?  He  is 
not  dead,  is  he  ?  "  cried  the  young  men  in  one 
breath. 

"  No,  it  is  not  so  bad  as  that,"  said  Jasmine, 
"  but  a  great  and  bitter  misfortune  has  come  upon 
us.  As  you  know,  some  time  ago  my  father  had 
a  quarrel  with  the  military  intendant,  and  that 
horrid  man  has,  out  of  spite,  brought  charges 
against  him  for  which  he  was  carried  off  this 
morning  to  prison." 

The  statement  of  her  misery  and  the  shame  in- 
volved in  it  completely  unnerved  poor  Jasmine, 
who,  true  to  her  inner  sex,  burst  into  tears  and 
rocked  herself  to  and  fro  in  her  grief.  Tu  and 
Wei,  on  their  knees  before  her,  tried  to  pour  in 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  93 

words  of  consolation.  With  a  lack  of  reason 
which  might  be  excused  under  the  circumstances, 
they  vowed  that  her  father  was  innocent  before 
they  knew  the  nature  of  the  charges  against  him, 
and  they  pledged  themselves  to  rest  neither  day 
nor  night  until  they  had  rescued  him  from  his 
difficulty.  When,  under  the  influence  of  their 
genuine  sympathy,  Jasmine  recovered  some  com- 
posure, Tu  begged  her  to  tell  him  of  what  her 
father  was  accused. 

"  The  villain,"  said  Jasmine,  through  her  tears, 
"has  dared  to  say  that  my  father  has  made  use 
of  government  taxes,  has  taken  bribes  for  recom- 
mending men  for  promotion,  has  appropriated  the 
soldiers'  ration-money,  and  has  been  in  league  with 
highwaymen." 

"  Is  it  possible?  "  said  Tu,  who  was  rather  stag- 
gered by  this  long  catalogue  of  crimes.  "  I  should 
not  have  believed  that  any  one  could  have  ventured 
to  have  charged  your  honoured  father  with  such 
things,  least  of  all  the  intendant,  who  is  notoriously 
possessed  of  an  itching  palm.  But  I  tell  you  what 
we  can  do  at  once.  Wei  and  I,  being  M.A.'s, 
have  a  right  to  call  on  the  prefect,  and  it  will  be 
a  real  pleasure  to  us  to  exercise  our  new  privilege 
for  the  first  time  in  your  service.  We  will  urge 
him  to  inquire  into  the  matter,  and  I  cannot  doubt 
that  he  will  at  once  quash  the  proceedings." 

Unhappily,  Tu's  hopes  were  not  realised.  The 
prefect  was  very  civil,  but  pointed  out  that,  since 
a  higher  court  had  ordered  the  arrest  of  the  colo- 


94  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

nel,  he  was  powerless  to  interfere  in  the  matter. 
Many  were  the  consultations  held  by  the  three 
friends,  and  much  personal  relief  Jasmine  got  from 
the  support  and  sympathy  of  the  young  men.  One 
hope  yet  remained  to  her :  Tu  and  Wei  were  about 
to  go  to  Peking  for  their  doctor's  degrees,  and  if 
they  passed  they  might  be  able  to  bring  such  influ- 
ence to  bear  as  would  secure  the  release  of  her 
father. 

"Let  not  the  'young  noble'  distress  himself 
overmuch,"  said  Wei  to  her,  with  some  importance. 
"  This  affair  will  be  engraven  on  our  hearts  and 
minds,  and  if  we  take  our  degrees  we  will  use  our 
utmost  exertions  to  wipe  away  the  injustice  which 
has  been  done  your  father." 

"Unhappily,"  said  the  more  practical  Tu,  "it 
is  too  plain  that  the  examining  magistrates  are  all 
in  league  to  ruin  him.  But  let  our  elder  brother 
remain  quietly  at  home,  doing  all  he  can  to  collect 
evidence  in  the  colonel's  favour,  while  we  will  do 
our  best  at  the  capital.  If  things  turn  out  well 
with  us  there,  our  elder  brother  had  better  follow 
at  once  to  assist  us  with  his  advice." 

Before  the  friends  parted,  Wei,  whose  own 
affairs  were  always  his  first  consideration,  took  an 
opportunity  of  whispering  to  Jasmine,  "  Don't  for- 
get your  honoured  sister's  promise,  I  beseech  you. 
Whether  we  succeed  or  not,  I  shall  ask  for  her  in 
marriage  on  my  return." 

"  Under  present  circumstances,  we  must  no 
longer  consider  the  engagement,"  said  Jasmine, 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  95 

shocked  at  his  introducing  the  subject  at  such  a 
moment,  "and  the  best  thing  that  you  can  do  is 
to  forget  all  about  it." 

The  moment  for  the  departure  of  the  young 
men  had  come,  and  they  had  no  time  to  say 
more.  With  bitter  tears,  the  two  youths  took 
leave  of  the  weeping  Jasmine,  who,  as  their  carts 
disappeared  in  the  distance,  felt  for  the  first  time 
what  it  was  to  be  alone  in  misery.  She  saw  little 
of  her  stepmother  in  those  dark  days.  That  poor 
lady  made  herself  so  ill  with  unrestrained  grief  that 
she  was  quite  incapable  of  rendering  either  help  or 
advice.  Fortunately  the  officials  showed  no  dis- 
position to  proceed  with  the  indictment,  and  by 
the  judicious  use  of  the  money  at  her  command 
Jasmine  induced  the  prison  authorities  to  make  her 
father's  confinement  as  little  irksome  as  possible. 
She  was  allowed  to  see  him  at  almost  any  time, 
and  on  one  occasion,  when  he  was  enjoying  her 
presence  as  in  his  prosperous  days  he  had  never 
expected  to  do,  he  remarked : 

"  Since  the  officials  are  not  proceeding  with  the 
business,  I  think  my  best  plan  will  be  to  send  a 
petition  to  Peking  asking  the  Board  of  War  to  ac- 
quit me.  But  my  difficulty  is  that  I  have  no  one 
whom  I  can  send  to  look  after  the  business." 

"  Let  me  go,"  said  Jasmine.  "  When  Tu  and 
Wei  were  leaving,  they  begged  me  to  follow  them 
to  consult  as  to  the  best  means  of  helping  you,  and 
with  them  to  depend  on  I  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"  I  quite  believe  that  you  are  as  capable  of 


96  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

managing  the  matter  as  anybody,"  said  her  father, 
admiringly ;  "  but  Peking  is  a  long  way  off,  and  I 
cannot  bear  to  think  of  the  things  which  might 
happen  to  you  on  the  road." 

"  From  all  time,"  answered  Jasmine,  "  it  has 
been  considered  the  duty  of  a  daughter  to  risk 
anything  in  the  service  of  her  father ;  and  though 
the  way  is  long,  I  shall  have  weapons  to  defend 
myself  with  against  injury,  and  a  clear  conscience 
with  which  to  answer  any  interrogatories  which 
may  be  put  to  me.  Besides,  I  will  take  our  mes- 
senger, 'The  Dragon,'  and  his  wife  with  me.  I 
will  make  her  dress  as  a  man — what  fun  it  will  be 
to  see  Mrs.  Dragon's  portly  form  in  trousers  and 
gabardine!  When  that  transformation  is  made, 
we  shall  be  a  party  of  three  men.  So,  you  see,  she 
and  I  will  have  a  man  to  protect  us,  and  I  shall 
have  a  woman  to  wait  upon  me ;  and  if  such  a 
gallant  company  cannot  travel  from  this  to  Peking 
in  safety,  I  '11  forswear  boots  and  trousers  and  will 
retire  into  the  harem  for  ever." 

"  Well,"  said  her  father,  laughing,  "  if  you  can 
arrange  in  that  way,  go  by  all  means,  and  the 
sooner  you  start  the  sooner  I  hope  you  will  be 
back." 

Delighted  at  having  gained  the  approval  of  her 
father  to  her  scheme,  Jasmine  quickly  made  the 
arrangements  for  her  journey.  On  the  morning 
of  the  day  on  which  she  was  to  start,  the  results 
of  the  doctors'  examination  at  Peking  reached 
Mienchu,  and,  to  Jasmine's  infinite  delight,  she 


A    CHINESE    GIRL  GRADUATE.  97 

found  the  names  of  Tu  and  Wei  among  the  suc- 
cessful candidates.  Armed  with  this  good  news, 
she  hurried  to  the  prison.  All  difficulties  seemed 
to  disappear  like  mist  before  the  sun  as  she 
thought  of  the  powerful  advocates  she  now  had  at 
Peking. 

"Tu  and  Wei  have  passed,"  she  said,  as  she 
rushed  into  her  father's  presence,  "and  now  the 
end  of  our  troubles  is  approaching." 

With  impatient  hope  Jasmine  took  leave  of  her 
father,  and  started  on  her  eventful  journey.  As 
evening  drew  on  she  entered  the  suburbs  of 
Ch'engtu,  the  provincial  capital,  and  sent  "The 
Dragon  "  on  to  find  a  suitable  inn  for  the  couple 
of  nights  which  she  knew  she  would  be  compelled 
to  spend  in  the  city.  "  The  Dragon  "  was  suc- 
cessful in  his  search,  and  conducted  Jasmine  and 
his  wife  to  a  comfortable  hostelry  in  one  of  the 
busiest  parts  of  the  town.  Having  refreshed  her- 
self with  an  excellent  dinner,  Jasmine  was  glad  to 
rest  from  the  fatigues  and  heat  of  the  day  in  the 
cool  courtyard  into  which  her  room  opened.  For- 
tune and  builders  had  so  arranged  that  a  neigh- 
bouring house,  towering  above  the  inn,  overlooked 
this  restful  spot,  and  one  of  the  higher  windows 
faced  exactly  the  position  which  Jasmine  had  taken 
up.  Such  a  fact  would  not,  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances, have  troubled  her  in  the  least ;  but  she  had 
not  been  sitting  long  before  she  began  to  feel  an 
extraordinary  attraction  toward  the  window.  She 


98  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

did  her  best  to  look  the  other  way,  but  she  was 
often  unconsciously  impelled  to  glance  up  at  the 
lattice.  Once  she  fancied  she  saw  the  curtain 
move.  Determined  to  verify  her  impression,  she 
suddenly  raised  her  eyes,  after  a  prolonged  con- 
templation of  the  pavement,  and  caught  a  mo- 
mentary sight  of  a  girl's  face,  which  as  instantly 
disappeared,  but  not  before  Jasmine  had  been  able 
to  recognise  that  it  was  one  of  exceptional  beauty. 

"  Now,  if  I  were  a  young  man,"  said  she  to  her- 
self, "  I  ought  to  feel  my  heart  beat  at  the  sight  of 
such  loveliness,  and  it  would  be  my  bounden  duty 
to  swear  that  I  would  win  the  owner  of  it  in  the 
teeth  of  dragons.  But  as  my  manhood  goes  no 
deeper  than  my  outer  garments,  I  can  afford  to  sit 
here  with  a  quiet  pulse  and  a  whole  skin." 

The  next  day  Jasmine  was  busily  engaged  in 
interviewing  some  officials  in  the  interest  of  her 
father,  and  only  reached  the  shelter  of  her  inn  to- 
ward evening.  As  she  passed  through  the  court- 
yard she  instinctively  looked  up  at  the  window, 
and  again  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  vision  of  beauty 
which  she  had  seen  the  evening  before.  "  If  she 
only  knew,"  thought  Jasmine,  "  that  I  was  such  a 
one  as  herself,  she  would  be  less  anxious  to  see 
me,  and  more  likely  to  avoid  me." 

While  amusing  herself  at  the  thought  of  the  fair 
watcher,  the  inn  door  opened,  and  a  waiting- 
woman  entered  carrying  a  small  box.  As  she  ap- 
proached Jasmine  she  bowed  low,  and  with  bated 
breath  thus  addressed  her : 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  99 

"  May  every  happiness  be  yours,  sir.  My  young 
lady,  Miss  King,  whose  humble  dwelling  is  the  ad- 
joining house,  seeing  that  you  are  living  in  solitude, 
has  sent  me  with  this  fruit  and  tea  as  a  compli- 
mentary offering." 

So  saying,  she  presented  to  Jasmine  the  box, 
which  contained  pears  and  a  packet  of  scented  tea. 

"  To  what  am  I  indebted  for  this  honour?  "  re- 
plied Jasmine ;  "  I  can  claim  no  relationship  with 
your  lady,  nor  have  I  the  honour  of  her  acquain- 
tance." 

"  My  young  lady  says,"  answered  the  waiting- 
woman,  "that,  among  the  myriads  who  come  to 
this  inn  and  the  thousands  who  go  from  it,  she  has 
seen  no  one  to  equal  your  Excellency  in  form  and 
feature.  At  sight  of  you  she  was  confident  that 
you  came  from  a  lofty  and  noble  family,  and  hav- 
ing learned  from  your  attendants  that  you  are  the 
son  of  a  colonel,  she  ventured  to  send  you  these  tri- 
fles to  supplement  the  needy  fare  of  this  rude  inn." 

"Tell  me  something  about  your  young  lady," 
said  Jasmine,  in  a  moment  of  idle  curiosity. 

"  My  young  lady,"  said  the  woman,  "  is  the 
daughter  of  Mr.  King,  who  was  a  vice-president 
of  a  lower  court.  Her  father  and  mother  having 
both  visited  the  '  Yellow  Springs,' 1  she  is  now  liv- 
ing with  an  aunt,  who  has  been  blessed  by  the  God 
of  Wealth,  and  whose  main  object  in  life  is  to  find 
a  husband  whom  her  niece  may  be  willing  to 
marry.  The  young  gentleman,  my  young  lady's 
i  Hades. 


100  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

cousin,  is  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Ch'£ngtu. 
All  the  larger  inns  belong  to  him,  and  his  profits 
are  as  boundless  as  the  four  seas.  He  is  as 
anxious  as  his  mother  to  find  a  suitable  match  for 
the  young  lady,  and  has  promised  that  so  soon 
as  she  can  make  a  choice  he  will  arrange  the 
wedding." 

"  I  should  have  thought,"  said  Jasmine,  "  that, 
being  the  owner  of  so  much  wealth  and  beauty, 
the  young  lady  would  have  been  besieged  by 
suitors  from  all  parts  of  the  empire." 

"  So  she  is,"  said  the  woman,  "  and  from  her 
window  yonder  she  espies  them,  for  they  all  put  up 
at  this  inn.  Hitherto  she  has  made  fun  of  them 
all,  and  describes  their  appearance  and  habits  in 
the  most  amusing  way.  '  See  this  one,'  says  she, 
'with  his  bachelor  cap  on  and  his  new  official 
clothes  and  awkward  gait,  looking  for  all  the  world 
like  a  barn-door  fowl  dressed  up  as  a  stork ;  or  that 
one,  with  his  round  shoulders,  monkey-face,  and 
crooked  legs;'  and  so  she  tells  them  off." 

"What  does  she  say  of  me,  I  wonder?"  said 
Jasmine,  amused. 

"  Of  your  Excellency  she  says  that  her  com- 
parisons fail  her,  and  that  she  can  only  hope  that 
the  Fates  who  guided  your  jewelled  chariot  hither- 
ward  will  not  tantalise  her  by  an  empty  vision, 
but  will  bind  your  ankles  to  hers  with  the  red 
matrimonial  cords." 

"How  can  I  hope  for  such  happiness?"  said 
Jasmine,  smiling.  "  But  please  to  tell  your  young 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  IOI 

lady  that,  being  only  a  guest  at  this  inn,  I  have 
nothing  worthy  of  her  acceptance  to  offer  in  return 
for  her  bounteous  gifts,  and  that  I  can  only  assure 
her  of  my  boundless  gratitude." 

With  many  bows,  and  with  reiterated  wishes  for 
Jasmine's  happiness  and  endless  longevity,  the 
woman  took  her  leave. 

"  Truly  this  young  lady  has  formed  a  most  per- 
verted attachment,"  said  Jasmine  to  herself.  "  She 
reminds  me  of  the  man  in  the  fairy  tale  who  fell  in 
love  with  a  shadow,  and,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  she 
is  not  likely  to  get  any  more  satisfaction  out  of  it 
than  he  did."  So  saying,  she  took  up  a  pencil  and 
scribbled  the  following  lines  on  a  scrap  of  paper : 

"  With  thoughts  as  ardent  as  a  quenchless  thirst, 

She  sends  me  fragrant  and  most  luscious  fruit  ; 
Without  a  blush  she  seeks  a  phenix  guest  * 
Who  dwells  alone  like  case-enveloped  lute." 

After  this  mental  effort  Jasmine  went  to  bed. 
Nor  had  her  interview  with  the  waiting-woman 
made  a  sufficient  impression  on  her  mind  to  inter- 
fere in  any  way  with  her  sleep.  She  was  surprised, 
however,  on  coming  into  her  sitting-room  in  the 
morning,  to  meet  the  same  messenger,  who,  laden 
with  a  dish  of  hot  eggs  and  a  brew  of  tea,  begged 
Jasmine  to  "deign  to  look  down  upon  her  offer- 
ings." 

"  Many  thanks,"  said  Jasmine,  "  for  your  kind 
attention." 

1  A  bachelor. 


102  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

"You  are  putting  the  saddle  on  the  wrong 
horse,"  replied  the  woman.  "  In  bringing  you 
these  I  am  but  obeying  the  orders  of  Miss  King, 
who  herself  made  the  tea  of  leaves  from  Pu-erh  in 
Yunnan,  and  who  with  her  own  fair  hands  shelled 
the  eggs." 

"  Your  young  lady,"  answered  Jasmine,  "  is  as 
bountiful  as  she  is  kind.  What  return  can  I  make 
her  for  her  kindness  to  a  stranger?  Stay,"  she 
said,  as  the  thought  crossed  her  mind  that  the 
verses  she  had  written  the  night  before  might 
prove  a  wholesome  tonic  for  this  effusive  young 
lady,  "  I  have  a  few  verses  which  I  will  venture  to 
ask  her  to  accept."  So  saying,  she  took  a  piece 
of  peach-blossom  paper,  on  which  she  carefully 
copied  the  quatrain  and  handed  it  to  the  woman. 
"  May  I  trouble  you,"  said  she,  "  to  take  this  to 
your  mistress?  " 

"  If,"  said  Jasmine  to  herself  as  the  woman  took 
her  departure,  "  Miss  King  is  able  to  penetrate  the 
meaning  of  my  verses,  she  won't  like  them.  With- 
out saying  so  in  so  many  words,  I  have  told  her 
with  sufficient  plainness  that  I  will  have  nothing 
to  say  to  her.  But  stupidity  is  a  shield  sent  by 
Providence  to  protect  the  greater  part  of  mankind 
from  many  evils;  so  perhaps  she  will  escape." 

It  certainly  in  this  case  served  to  shield  Miss 
King  from  Jasmine's  shafts.  She  was  delighted 
at  receiving  the  verses,  and  at  once  sat  down  to 
compose  a  quatrain  to  match  Jasmine's  in  reply. 
With  infinite  labour  she  elaborated  the  following : 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  103 

"  Sung  Yuh  on  th'  eastern  wall  sat  deep  in  thought, 
And  longed  with  P'e  to  pluck  the  fragrant  fruit. 
If  all  the  well-known  tunes  be  newly  set, 
What  use  to  take  again  the  half-burnt  lute?  " 

Having  copied  these  on  a  piece  of  silk-woven 
paper,  she  sent  them  to  Jasmine  by  her  faithful 
attendant.  On  looking  over  the  paper,  Jasmine 
said,  smiling,  "  What  a  clever  young  lady  your 
mistress  must  be!  These  lines,  though  somewhat 
inconsequential,  are  incomparable." 

But,  though  Jasmine  was  partly  inclined  to  treat 
the  matter  as  a  joke,  she  saw  that  there  was  a 
serious  side  to  the  affair,  more  especially  as  the 
colours  under  which  she  was  sailing  were  so  un- 
deniably false.  She  knew  well  that  for  Sung  Yuh 
should  be  read  Miss  King,  and  for  P'e  her  own 
name ;  and  she  determined,  therefore,  to  put  an  end 
to  the  philandering  of  Miss  King,  which,  in  her 
present  state  of  mind,  was  doubly  annoying  to  her. 

"  I  am  deeply  indebted  to  your  young  lady,"  she 
said,  and  then,  being  determined  to  make  a  plunge 
into  the  morass  of  untruthfulness,  for  a  good  end 
as  she  believed,  added,  "  and,  if  I  had  love  at  my 
disposal,  I  should  possibly  venture  to  make  ad- 
vances toward  the  feathery  peach;1  but  let  me 
confess  to  you  that  I  have  already  taken  to  myself 
a  wife.  Had  I  had  the  felicity  of  meeting  Miss 
King  before  I  committed  myself  in  another  direc- 
tion, I  might  perhaps  have  been  a  happier  man. 
But,  after  all,  if  this  were  so,  my  position  is  no 
1  A  nuptial  emblem. 


104  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

worse  than  that  of  most  other  married  men,  for  I 
never  met  one  who  was  not  occasionally  inclined 
to  cry,  like  the  boys  at  '  toss  cash,'  '  Hark  back 
and  try  again.' " 

"  This  will  be  sad  news  for  my  lady,  for  she  has 
set  her  heart  upon  you  ever  since  you  first  came  to 
the  inn ;  and  when  young  misses  take  that  sort  of 
fancy  and  lose  the  objects  of  their  love,  they  are 
as  bad  as  children  when  forbidden  their  sugar- 
plums. But  what  's  the  use  of  talking  to  you 
about  a  young  lady's  feelings!"  said  the  woman, 
with  a  vexed  toss  of  her  head ;  "  I  never  knew  a 
man  who  understood  a  woman  yet." 

"  I  am  extremely  sorry  for  Miss  King,"  said 
Jasmine,  trying  to  suppress  a  smile.  "  As  you 
wisely  remark,  a  young  lady  is  a  sealed  book  to 
me,  but  I  have  always  been  told  that  their  fancies 
are  as  variable  as  the  shadow  of  the  bamboo ;  and 
probably,  therefore,  though  Miss  King's  sky  may 
be  overcast  just  now,  the  gloom  will  only  make 
her  enjoy  to-morrow's  sunshine  all  the  more." 

The  woman,  who  was  evidently  in  a  hurry  to 
convey  the  news  to  her  mistress,  returned  no  an- 
swer to  this  last  sally,  but,  with  curtailed  obeisance, 
took  her  departure. 

Her  non-appearance  the  next  morning  confirmed 
Jasmine  in  the  belief  that  her  bold  departure  from 
truth  on  the  previous  evening  had  had  its  curative 
effect.  The  relief  was  great,  for  she  had  felt  that 
these  complications  were  becoming  too  frequent 
to  be  pleasant,  and,  reprehensible  though  it  may 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  105 

appear,  her  relief  was  mingled  with  no  sort  of 
compassion  for  Miss  King.  Hers  was  not  a  nature 
to  sympathise  with  such  sudden  and  fierce  attach- 
ments. Her  affection  for  Tu  had  been  the  growth 
of  many  months,  and  she  had  no  feeling  in  com- 
mon with  a  young  lady  who  could  take  a  violent 
liking  for  a  young  man  simply  from  seeing  him 
taking  his  post-prandial  ease.  It  was  therefore 
with  complete  satisfaction  that  she  left  the  inn  in 
the  course  of  the  morning  to  pay  her  farewell  visits 
to  the  governor  and  the  judge  of  the  province, 
who  had  taken  an  unusual  interest  in  Colonel 
Wen's  case  since  Jasmine  had  become  his  personal 
advocate.  Both  officials  had  promised  to  do  all 
they  could  for  the  prisoner,  and  had  loaded  Jasmine 
with  tokens  of  good  will  in  the  shape  of  strange 
and  rare  fruits  and  culinary  delicacies.  On  this 
particular  day  the  governor  had  invited  her  to  the 
midday  meal,  and  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon 
before  she  found  her  way  back  to  the  inn. 

The  following  morning  she  rose  early,  intending 
to  start  before  noon,  and  was  stepping  into  the 
courtyard  to  give  directions  to  "  The  Dragon," 
when,  to  her  surprise,  she  was  accosted  by  Miss 
King's  servant,  who,  with  a  waggish  smile  and  a 
cunning  shake  of  the  head,  said : 

"  How  can  one  so  young  as  your  Excellency  be 
such  a  proficient  in  the  art  of  inventing  flowers  of 
the  imagination?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Jasmine. 

"  Why,  last  night  you  told  me  you  were  married, 


106  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

and  my  poor  young  lady  when  she  heard  it  was 
wrung  with  grief.  But,  recovering  somewhat,  she 
sent  me  to  ask  your  servants  whether  what  you 
had  said  was  true  or  not,  for  she  knows  what  she  's 
about  as  well  as  most  people,  and  they  both  with 
one  voice  assured  me  that,  far  from  being  married, 
you  had  not  even  exchanged  nuptial  presents  with 
anybody.  You  may  imagine  Miss  King's  delight 
when  I  took  her  this  news.  She  at  once  asked 
her  cousin  to  call  upon  you  to  make  a  formal  offer 
of  marriage,  and  she  has  now  sent  me  to  tell  you 
that  he  will  be  here  anon." 

Every  one  knows  what  it  is  to  pass  suddenly 
from  a  state  of  pleasurable  high  spirits  into  deep 
despondency,  to  exchange  in  an  instant  bright 
mental  sunshine  for  cloud  and  gloom.  All,  there- 
fore, must  sympathise  with  poor  Jasmine,  who, 
believing  the  road  before  her  to  be  smooth  and 
clear,  on  a  sudden  became  thus  aware  of  a  most 
troublesome  and  difficult  obstruction.  She  had 
scarcely  finished  calling  down  anathemas  on  the 
heads  of  "  The  Dragon  "  and  his  wife,  and  cursing 
her  own  folly  for  bringing  them  with  her,  than 
the  inn  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  a  servant 
appeared  carrying  a  long  red  visiting-card  in- 
scribed with  the  name  of  the  wealthy  inn-proprie- 
tor. On  the  heels  of  this  forerunner  followed 
young  Mr.  King,  who,  with  effusive  bows,  said, 
"  I  have  ventured  to  pay  my  respects  to  your 
Excellency." 

Poor  Jasmine  was  so  upset  by  the  whole  affair 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  1 07 

that  she  lacked  some  of  the  courtesy  that  was 
habitual  to  her,  and  in  her  confusion  very  nearly 
seated  her  guest  on  her  right  hand.  Fortunately 
this  outrageous  breach  of  etiquette  was  avoided, 
and  the  pair  eventually  arranged  themselves  in  the 
canonical  order. 

"  This  old  son  of  Han,"  began  Mr.  King, 
"would  not  have  dared  to  intrude  himself  upon 
your  Excellency  if  it  were  not  that  he  has  a  matter 
of  great  delicacy  to  discuss  with  you.  He  has  a 
cousin,  the  daughter  of  Vice- President  King,  for 
whom  for  years  he  has  been  trying  to  find  a  suit- 
able match.  The  position  is  peculiar,  for  the  lady 
declares  positively  that  she  will  not  marry  any  one 
she  has  not  seen  and  approved  of.  Until  now  she 
has  not  been  able  to  find  any  one  whom  she  would 
care  to  marry.  But  the  presence  of  your  Excel- 
lency has  thrown  a  light  across  her  path  which  has 
shown  her  the  way  to  the  plum-groves  of  matri- 
monial felicity." 

Here  King  paused,  expecting  some  reply ;  but 
Jasmine  was  too  absorbed  in  thought  to  speak,  so 
Mr.  King  went  on : 

"  This  old  son  of  Han,  hearing  that  your  Excel- 
lency is  still  unmarried,  has  taken  upon  himself  to 
make  a  proposal  of  marriage  to  you,  and  to  offer 
his  cousin  as  your  '  basket  and  broom.' l  His  in- 
terview with  you  has,  he  may  say,  shown  him  the 
wisdom  of  his  cousin's  choice,  and  he  cannot 
imagine  a  pair  better  suited  for  one  another,  or 
i  Wife. 


I08  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

more  likely  to  be  happy,  than  your  Excellency  and 
his  cousin." 

"  I  dare  not  be  anything  but  straightforward 
with  your  worship,"  said  Jasmine,  "  and  I  am 
grateful  for  the  extraordinary  affection  your  cousin 
has  been  pleased  to  bestow  upon  me ;  but  I  cannot 
forget  that  she  belongs  to  a  family  which  is  entitled 
to  pass  through  the  gate  of  the  palace,1  and  I  fear 
that  my  rank  is  not  sufficient  for  her.  Besides, 
my  father  is  at  present  under  a  cloud,  and  I  am 
now  on  my  way  to  Peking  to  try  to  release  him 
from  his  difficulties.  It  is  no  time,  therefore,  for 
me  to  be  binding  myself  with  promises." 

"  As  to  your  Excellency's  first  objection,"  replied 
King,  "  you  are  already  the  wearer  of  a  hat  with 
a  silken  tassel,  and  a  man  need  not  be  a  prophet 
to  foretell  that  in  time  to  come  any  office,  either 
civil  or  military,  will  be  within  your  reach.  No 
doubt,  also,  your  business  in  Peking  will  be  quickly 
brought  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion,  and  there  can 
be  no  objection,  therefore,  to  our  settling  the  pre- 
liminaries now,  and  then,  on  your  return  from  the 
capital,  we  can  celebrate  the  wedding.  This  will 
give  rest  and  composure  to  my  cousin's  mind, 
which  is  now  like  a  disturbed  sea,  and  will  not  in- 
terfere, I  venture  to  think,  with  the  affair  which 
calls  you  to  Peking." 

As  King  proceeded,  Jasmine  felt  that  her  diffi- 
culties were  on  the  increase.  It  was  impossible 
that  she  should  explain  her  position  in  full,  and 
i  A  family  of  distinction. 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  1 09 

she  had  no  sufficient  reason  at  hand  to  give  for 
rejecting  the  proposal  made  her,  though,  at  the 
same  time,  her  annoyance  was  not  small  at  having 
such  a  matter  forced  upon  her  at  a  moment  when 
her  mind  was  filled  with  anxieties.  "  Then,"  she 
thought  to  herself,  "there  is  ahead  of  me  that 
explanation  which  must  inevitably  come  with  Wei ; 
so  that,  altogether,  if  it  were  not  for  the  deeply 
rooted  conviction  which  I  have  that  Tu  will  be 
mine  at  last,  when  he  knows  what  I  really  am,  life 
would  not  be  worth  having.  As  for  this  inn-pro- 
prietor, if  he  has  so  little  delicacy  as  to  push  his 
cousin  upon  me  at  this  crisis,  I  need  not  have 
any  compunction  regarding  him ;  so  perhaps  my 
easiest  way  of  getting  out  of  the  present  hobble 
will  be  to  accept  his  proposal  and  to  present  the 
box  of  precious  ointment  handed  me  by  Wei  for 
my  sister  to  this  ogling  love-sick  girl."  So  turn- 
ing to  King,  she  said : 

"  Since  you,  sir,  and  your  cousin  have  honoured 
me  with  your  regard,  I  dare  not  altogether  decline 
your  proposal,  and  I  would  therefore  beg  you,  sir, 
to  hand  this,"  she  added,  producing  the  box  of 
ointment,  "  to  your  honourable  cousin,  as  a  token 
of  the  bond  between  us,  and  to  convey  to  her  my 
promise  that,  if  I  don't  marry  her,  I  will  never 
marry  another  lady." 

Mr.  King,  with  the  greatest  delight,  received  the 
box,  and  handing  it  to  the  waiting-woman,  who 
stood  expectant  by,  bade  her  carry  it  to  her  mis- 
tress, with  the  news  of  the  engagement.  Jasmine 


110  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

now  hoped  that  her  immediate  troubles  were  over, 
but  King  insisted  on  celebrating  the  event  by  a 
feast,  and  it  was  not  until  late  in  the  afternoon  that 
she  succeeded  in  making  a  start.  Once  on  the 
road,  her  anxiety  to  reach  Peking  was  such  that 
she  travelled  night  and  day,  "  feeding  on  wind  and 
lodging  in  water."  Nor  did  she  rest  until  she 
reached  a  hotel  within  the  Hata  Gate  of  the 
capital. 

Jasmine's  solitary  journey  had  given  her  abun- 
dant time  for  reflection,  and  for  the  first  time  she 
had  set  herself  seriously  to  consider  her  position. 
She  recognised  that  she  had  hitherto  followed  only 
the  impulses  of  the  moment,  of  which  the  main 
one  had  been  the  desire  to  escape  complications 
by  the  wholesale  sacrifice  of  truth ;  and  she  ac- 
knowledged to  herself  that,  if  justice  were  evenly 
dealt  out,  there  must  be  a  Nemesis  in  store  for  her 
which  should  bring  distress  and  possibly  disaster 
upon  her.  In  her  calmer  moments  she  felt  an  in- 
stinctive foreboding  that  she  was  approaching  a 
crisis  in  her  fate,  and  it  was  with  mixed  feelings, 
therefore,  that  on  the  morning  after  her  arrival  she 
prepared  to  visit  Tu  and  Wei,  who  were  as  yet 
ignorant  of  her  presence. 

She  dressed  herself  with  more  than  usual  care 
for  the  occasion,  choosing  to  attire  herself  in  a 
blue  silk  robe  and  a  mauve  satin  jacket  which  Tu 
had  once  admired,  topped  by  a  brand-new  cap. 
Altogether  her  appearance  as  she  passed  through 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  Ill 

the  streets  justified  the  remark  made  by  a  passer- 
by:  "A  pretty  youngster,  and  more  like  a  maiden 
of  eighteen  than  a  man." 

The  hostelry  at  which  Tu  and  Wei  had  taken 
up  their  abode  was  an  inn  befitting  the  dignity  of 
such  distinguished  scholars.  On  inquiring  at  the 
door,  Jasmine  was  ushered  by  a  servant  through 
a  courtyard  to  an  inner  enclosure,  where,  under 
the  grateful  shade  of  a  wide-spreading  cotton-tree, 
Tu  was  reclining  at  his  ease.  Jasmine's  delight 
at  meeting  her  friend  was  only  equalled  by  the 
pleasure  with  which  Tu  greeted  her.  In  his  strong 
and  gracious  presence  she  became  conscious  that 
she  was  released  from  the  absorbing  care  which 
had  haunted  her,  and  her  soul  leaped  out  in  new 
freedom  as  she  asked  and  answered  questions  of 
her  friend.  Each  had  much  to  say,  and  it  was 
not  for  some  time,  when  an  occasional  reference 
brought  his  name  forward,  that  Jasmine  noticed 
the  absence  of  Wei.  When  she  did,  she  asked 
after  him. 

"  He  left  this  some  days  ago,"  said  Tu,  "  having 
some  special  business  which  called  for  his  presence 
at  home.  He  did  not  tell  me  what  it  was,  but 
doubtless  it  was  something  of  importance."  Jas- 
mine said  nothing,  but  felt  pretty  certain  in  her 
mind  as  to  the  object  of  his  hasty  return. 

Tu,  attributing  her  silence  to  a  reflection  on  Wei 
for  having  left  the  capital  before  her  father's  affair 
was  settled,  hastened  to  add : 

"  He  was  very  helpful  in  the  matter  of  your 


112  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

honoured  father's  difficulty,  and  only  left  when  he 
thought  he  could  not  do  any  more." 

"  How  do  matters  stand  now?  "  asked  Jasmine, 
eagerly. 

"We  have  posted  a  memorial  at  the  palace 
gate,"  said  Tu,  "  and  have  arranged  that  it  shall 
reach  the  right  quarter.  Fortunately,  also,  I  have 
an  acquaintance  in  the  Board  of  War  who  has 
undertaken  to  do  all  he  can  in  that  direction,  and 
promises  an  answer  in  a  few  days." 

"  I  have  brought  with  me,"  said  Jasmine,  "  a 
petition  prepared  by  my  father.  What  do  you 
think  about  presenting  it?" 

"At  present  I  believe  that  it  would  only  do 
harm.  A  superabundance  of  memorials  is  as  bad 
as  none  at  all.  Beyond  a  certain  point,  they  only 
irritate  officials." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jasmine ;  "  I  am  quite  content 
to  leave  the  conduct  of  affairs  in  your  hands." 

"  Well  then,"  said  Tu,  "  that  being  understood, 
I  propose  that  you  should  move  your  things  over 
to  this  inn.  There  is  Wei's  room  at  your  disposal, 
and  your  constant  presence  here  will  be  balm  to 
my  lonely  spirit.  At  the  Hata  Gate  you  are  almost 
as  remote  as  if  you  were  in  our  study  at  Mienchu." 

Jasmine  was  at  first  startled  by  this  proposal. 
Though  she  had  been  constantly  in  the  company 
of  Tu,  she  had  never  lived  under  the  same  roof 
with  him,  and  she  at  once  recognised  that  there 
might  be  difficulties  in  the  way  of  her  keeping  her 
secret  if  she  were  to  be  constantly  under  the  eyes 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  113 

of  her  friend.  But  she  had  been  so  long  accus- 
tomed to  yield  to  the  present  circumstances,  and 
was  so  confident  that  Fortune,  which,  with  some 
slight  irregularities,  had  always  stood  her  friend, 
would  not  desert  her  on  the  present  occasion,  that 
she  gave  way. 

"  By  all  means,"  she  said.  "  I  will  go  back  to 
my  inn,  and  bring  my  things  at  once.  This  writ- 
ing-case I  will  leave  here.  I  brought  it  because 
it  contains  my  father's  petition." 

So  saying,  she  took  her  leave,  and  Tu  retired  to 
his  easy-chair  under  the  cotton-tree.  But  the  de- 
mon of  curiosity  was  abroad,  and  alighting  on  the 
arm  of  Tu's  chair,  whispered  in  his  ear  that  it  might 
be  well  if  he  ran  his  eye  over  Colonel  Wen's  peti- 
tion to  see  if  there  was  any  argument  in  it  which 
he  had  omitted  in  his  statement  to  the  Board  of 
War.  At  first  Tu,  whose  nature  was  the  reverse 
of  inquisitive,  declined  to  listen  to  these  prompt- 
ings, but  so  persistent  did  they  become  that  he  at 
last  put  down  his  book — "  The  Spring  and  Autumn 
Annals  " — and,  seating  himself  at  the  sitting-room 
table,  opened  the  writing-case  so  innocently  left  by 
Jasmine.  On  the  top  were  a  number  of  red  visit- 
ing-cards bearing  the  inscription,  in  black,  of  Wen 
Tsunk'ing,  and  beneath  these  was  the  petition. 
Carefully  Tu  read  it  through,  and  passed  mental 
eulogies  on  it  as  he  proceeded.  The  colonel  had 
put  his  case  skilfully,  but  Tu  had  no  difficulty  in 
recognising  Jasmine's  hand,  both  in  the  composi- 
tion of  the  document  and  in  the  penmanship.  "  If 


114  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

my  attempt,"  he  thought,  "  does  not  succeed,  we 
will  try  what  this  will  do."  He  was  on  the  point 
of  returning  it  to  its  resting-place,  when  he  saw 
another  document  in  Jasmine's  handwriting  lying 
by  it.  This  was  evidently  a  formal  document, 
probably  connected,  as  he  thought,  with  the  colo- 
nel's case,  and  he  therefore  unfolded  it  and  read 
as  follows : 

"The  faithful  maiden,  Miss  Wen  of  Mienchu 
Hien,  with  burning  incense  reverently  prays  the 
God  of  War  to  release  her  father  from  his  present 
difficulties,  and  speedily  to  restore  peace  to  her  own 
soul  by  nullifying,  in  accordance  with  her  desire, 
the  engagement  of  the  bamboo  arrow  and  the  con- 
tract of  the  box  of  precious  ointment.  A  respect- 
ful petition." 

As  Tu  read  on,  surprise  and  astonishment  took 
possession  of  his  countenance.  A  second  time  he 
read  it  through,  and  then,  throwing  himself  back 
in  his  chair,  broke  out  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"  So,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  have  allowed  my- 
self to  be  deceived  by  a  young  girl  all  these  years. 
And  yet  not  altogether  deceived,"  he  added,  trying 
to  find  an  excuse  for  himself ;  "  for  I  have  often 
fancied  that  there  was  the  savour  of  a  woman 
about  the  'young  noble.'  I  hope  she  is  not  one 
of  those  heaven-born  genii  who  appear  on  earth  to 
plague  men,  and  who,  just  when  they  have  aroused 
the  affections  they  wished  to  excite,  ascend  through 
the  air  and  leave  their  lovers  mourning." 

Just  at  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Jas- 


A    CHINESE    GIRL   GRADUATE.  115 

mine  entered,  looking  more  lovely  than  ever,  with 
the  flush  begotten  by  exercise  on  her  beautifully 
moulded  cheeks.  At  sight  of  her  Tu  again  burst 
out  laughing,  to  Jasmine's  not  unnatural  surprise, 
who,  thinking  that  there  must  be  something  wrong 
with  her  dress,  looked  herself  up  and  down,  to  the 
increasing  amusement  of  Tu. 

"  So,"  said  he  at  last,  "  you  deceitful  little  hussy, 
you  have  been  deceiving  me  all  these  years  by 
passing  yourself  off  as  a  man,  when  in  reality  you 
are  a  girl." 

Overcome  with  confusion,  Jasmine  hung  her 
head,  and  murmured : 

"  Who  has  betrayed  me?  " 

"  You  have  betrayed  yourself,"  said  Tu,  holding 
up  the  incriminating  document ;  "  and  here  we 
have  the  story  of  the  arrow  with  which  you  shot 
the  hawk,  but  what  the  box  of  precious  ointment 
means  I  don't  know." 

Confronted  with  this  overwhelming  evidence, 
poor  Jasmine  remained  speechless,  and  dared  not 
even  lift  her  eyes  to  glance  at  Tu.  That  young 
man,  seeing  her  distress,  and  being  in  no  wise  pos- 
sessed by  the  scorn  which  he  had  put  into  his  tone, 
crossed  over  to  her  and  gently  led  her  to  a  seat  by 
him. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  he  said,  in  so  altered  a 
voice  that  Jasmine's  heart  ceased  to  throb  as  if  it 
wished  to  force  an  opening  through  the  finely 
formed  bosom  which  enclosed  it,  "  on  one  occa- 
sion in  our  study  at  home  I  wished  that  you  were 


Il6  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

a  woman  that  you  might  become  my  wife?  Little 
did  I  think  that  my  wish  might  be  gratified.  Now 
it  is,  and  I  beseech  you  to  let  us  join  our  lives  in 
one,  and  seek  the  happiness  of  the  gods  in  each 
other's  perpetual  presence." 

But,  as  if  suddenly  recollecting  herself,  Jasmine 
withdrew  her  hand  from  his,  and,  standing  up  before 
him  with  quivering  lip  and  eyes  full  of  tears,  said : 

"  No.     It  can  never  be." 

"  Why  not?  "  said  Tu,  in  alarmed  surprise.. 

"  Because  I  am  bound  to  Wei." 

"  What!      Does  Wei  know  your  secret?  " 

"  No.  But  do  you  remember  when  I  shot  that 
arrow  in  front  of  your  study?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  said  Tu.  "  But  what  has  that  to 
do  with  it?" 

"  Why,  Wei  discovered  my  name  on  the  shaft, 
and  I,  to  keep  my  secret,  told  him  that  it  was  my 
sister's  name.  He  then  wanted  to  marry  my  sister, 
and  I  undertook,  fool  that  I  was,  to  arrange  it  for 
him.  Now  I  shall  be  obliged  to  confess  the  truth, 
and  he  will  have  a  right  to  claim  me  instead  of  my 
supposed  sister." 

"  But,"  said  Tu,  "  I  have  a  prior  right  to  that 
of  Wei,  for  it  was  I  who  found  the  arrow.  And 
in  this  matter  I  shall  be  ready  to  outface  him  at 
all  hazards.  But,"  he  added,  "  Wei,  I  am  sure,  is 
not  the  man  to  take  an  unfair  advantage  of  you." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so?  "  asked  Jasmine. 

"  Certainly  I  do,"  said  Tu. 

"Then — then — I    shall   be — very    glad,"   said 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  117 

poor  Jasmine,  hesitatingly,  overcome  with  bash- 
fulness,  but  full  of  joy. 

At  which  gracious  consent  Tu  recovered  the 
hand  which  had  been  withdrawn  from  his,  and 
Jasmine  sank  again  into  the  chair  at  his  side. 

"  But,  Tu,  dear,"  she  said,  after  a  pause,  "  there 
is  something  else  that  I  must  tell  you  before  I  can 
feel  that  my  confessions  are  over." 

"  What!  You  have  not  engaged  yourself  to  any 
one  else,  have  you?  "  said  Tu,  laughing. 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  she  replied,  with  a  smile ;  and 
she  then  gave  her  lover  a  full  and  particular  account 
of  how  Mr.  King  had  proposed  to  her  on  behalf  of 
his  cousin,  and  how  she  had  accepted  her. 

"  How  could  you  frame  your  lips  to  utter  such 
untruths?  "  said  Tu,  half  laughing  and  half  in 
earnest. 

"  O  Tu,  falsehood  is  so  easy  and  truth  so  diffi- 
cult sometimes.  But  I  feel  that  I  have  been  very, 
very  wicked,"  said  poor  Jasmine,  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"  Well,  you  certainly  have  got  yourself  into  a 
pretty  hobble.  So  far  as  I  can  make  out,  you  are 
at  the  present  moment  engaged  to  one  young  lady 
and  two  young  men." 

The  situation,  thus  expressed,  was  so  comical 
that  Jasmine  could  not  refrain  from  laughing 
through  her  tears;  but,  after  a  somewhat  length- 
ened consultation  with  her  lover,  her  face  recovered 
its  wonted  serenity,  and  round  it  hovered  a  halo  of 
happiness  which  added  light  and  beauty  to  every 


Il8  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

feature.  There  is  something  particularly  entranc- 
ing in  receiving  the  first  confidences  of  a  pure  and 
loving  soul.  So  Tu  thought  on  this  occasion,  and 
while  Jasmine  was  pouring  the  most  secret  work- 
ings of  her  inmost  being  into  his  ear,  those  lines 
of  the  poet  of  the  Sung  dynasty  came  irresistibly 
into  his  mind : 

'T  is  sweet  to  see  the  flowers  woo  the  sun, 
To  watch  the  quaint  wiles  of  the  cooing  dove, 

But  sweeter  far  to  hear  the  dulcet  tones 
Of  her  one  loves  confessing  her  great  love. 

But  there  is  an  end  to  everything,  even  to  the 
"  Confucian  Analects,"  and  so  there  was  also  to 
this  lovers'  colloquy.  For  just  as  Jasmine  was 
explaining,  for  the  twentieth  time,  the  origin  and 
basis  of  her  love  for  Tu,  a  waiter  entered  to  an- 
nounce the  arrival  of  her  luggage. 

"  I  don't  know  quite,"  said  Tu,  "  where  we  are 
to  put  your  two  men.  But,  by-the-bye,"  he  added, 
as  the  thought  struck  him,  "  did  you  really  travel 
all  the  way  in  the  company  of  these  two  men 
only?" 

"  O  Tu,"  said  Jasmine,  laughing,  "  I  have  some- 
thing else  to  confess  to  you." 

"  What!  another  lover?  "  said  Tu,  affecting  hor- 
ror and  surprise. 

"  No ;  not  another  lover,  but  another  woman. 
The  short,  stout  one  is  a  woman,  and  came  as 
my  maid.  She  is  the  wife  of  '  The  Dragon.' " 

"  Well,  now  have  you  told  me  all  ?     For  I  am 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  1 19 

getting  so  confused  about  the  people  you  have 
transformed  from  women  to  men,  that  I  shall  have 
doubts  about  my  own  sex  next." 

"  Yes,  Tu,  dear ;  now  you  know  all,"  said  Jas- 
mine, laughing.  But  not  all  the  good  news  which 
was  in  store  for  him,  for  scarcely  had  Jasmine  done 
speaking  when  a  letter  arrived  from  his  friend  in 
the  Board  of  War,  who  wrote  to  say  that  he  had 
succeeded  in  getting  the  military  intendant  of 
Mienchu  transferred  to  a  post  in  the  province  of 
Kwangsi,  and  that  the  departure  of  this  noxious 
official  would  mean  the  release  of  the  colonel,  as 
he  alone  was  the  colonel's  accuser.  This  news 
added  one  more  note  to  the  chord  of  joy  which 
had  been  making  harmony  in  Jasmine's  heart  for 
some  hours,  and  readily  she  agreed  with  Tu  that 
they  should  set  off  homeward  on  the  following 
morning. 

With  no  such  adventure  as  that  which  had  at- 
tended Jasmine's  journey  to  the  capital,  they 
reached  Mienchu,  and,  to  their  delight,  were  re- 
ceived by  the  colonel  in  his  own  yamun.  After 
congratulating  him  on  his  release,  which  Jasmine 
took  care  he  should  understand  was  due  entirely 
to  Tu's  exertions,  she  gave  him  a  full  account  of 
her  various  experiences  on  the  road  and  at  the 
capital. 

"  It  is  like  a  story  out  of  a  book  of  marvels," 
said  her  father,  "  and  even  now  you  have  not  ex- 
hausted all  the  necessary  explanations.  For,  since 
my  release,  your  friend  Wei  has  been  here  to  ask 


120  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

for  my  daughter  in  marriage.  From  some  ques- 
tions I  put  to  him,  he  is  evidently  unaware  that 
you  are  my  only  daughter,  and  I  therefore  put  him 
off  and  told  him  to  wait  until  you  returned.  He 
is  in  a  very  impatient  state,  and,  no  doubt,  will  be 
over  shortly." 

Nor  was  the  colonel  wrong,  for  almost  immedi- 
ately Wei  was  announced,  who,  after  expressing 
the  genuine  pleasure  he  felt  at  seeing  Jasmine 
again,  began  at  once  on  the  subject  which  filled 
his  mind. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  he  said,  "to  have  this  oppor- 
tunity of  asking  you  to  explain  matters.  At 
present  I  am  completely  nonplussed.  On  my  re- 
turn from  Peking  I  inquired  of  one  of  your  father's 
servants  about  his  daughter.  '  He  has  not  got 
one,'  quoth  the  man.  I  went  to  another,  and  he 
said,  'You  mean  the  "young  noble,"  I  suppose.' 
'  No,  I  don't,'  I  said  ;  '  I  mean  his  sister.'  '  Well, 
that  is  the  only  daughter  I  know  of,'  said  he. 
Then  I  went  to  your  father,  and  all  I  could  get 
out  of  him  was,  '  Wait  until  the  "  young  noble  " 
comes  home.'  Please  tell  me  what  all  this  means." 

"  Your  great  desire  is  to  marry  a  beautiful  and 
accomplished  girl,  is  it  not?  "  said  Jasmine. 

"  That  certainly  is  my  wish,"  said  Wei. 

"  Well  then,"  said  Jasmine,  "  I  can  assure  you 
that  your  betrothal  present  is  in  the  hand  of  such 
a  one,  and  a  girl  whom  to  look  at  is  to  love." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  Wei,  "  but  my  wish  is  to 
marry  your  sister." 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  121 

"Will  you  go  and  talk  to  Tu  about  it?"  said 
Jasmine,  who  felt  that  the  subject  was  becoming  too 
difficult  forher,andwhoseconfidence  in  Tu's  wisdom 
was  unbounded,  "  and  he  will  explain  it  all  to  you." 

Even  Tu,  however,  found  it  somewhat  difficult 
to  explain  Jasmine's  sphinx-like  mysteries,  and  on 
certain  points  Wei  showed  a  disposition  to  be  any- 
thing but  satisfied.  Jasmine's  engagement  to  Tu 
implied  his  rejection,  and  he  was  disposed  to  be 
splenetic  and  disagreeable  about  it.  His  pride 
was  touched,  and  in  his  irritation  he  was  inclined 
to  impute  treachery  to  his  friend  and  deceit  to  Jas- 
mine. To  the  first  charge  Tu  had  a  ready  answer, 
but  the  second  was  all  the  more  annoying  because 
there  was  some  truth  in  it.  However,  Tu  was 
not  in  the  humour  to  quarrel,  and  being  deter- 
mined to  seek  peace  and  ensue  it,  he  overlooked 
Wei's  innuendos  and  made  out  the  best  case  he 
could  for  his  bride.  On  Miss  King's  beauty,  vir- 
tues, and  ability  he  enlarged  with  a  wealth  of  dic- 
tion and  power  of  imagination  which  astonished 
himself,  and  Jasmine  also,  to  whom  he  afterward 
repeated  the  conversation.  "  Why,  Tu,  dear,"  said 
that  artless  maiden,  "how  can  you  know  all  this 
about  Miss  King?  You  have  never  seen  her,  and 
I  am  sure  I  never  told  you  half  of  all  this." 

"  Don't  ask  questions,"  said  the  enraptured  Tu. 
"  Let  it  be  enough  for  you  to  know  that  Wei  is  as 
eager  for  the  possession  of  Miss  King  as  he  was  for 
your  sister,  and  that  he  has  promised  to  be  my  best 
man  at  our  wedding  to-morrow." 


122  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

And  Wei  was  as  good  as  his  word.  With  every 
regard  to  ceremony  and  ancient  usage,  the  mar- 
riage of  Tu  and  Jasmine  was  celebrated  in  the 
presence  of  relatives  and  friends,  who,  attracted 
by  the  novelty  of  the  antecedent  circumstances, 
came  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  witness  the 
nuptials.  By  Tu's  especial  instructions  also  a 
prominence  was  allowed  to  Wei,  which  gratified 
his  vanity  and  smoothed  down  the  ruffled  feathers 
of  his  conceit. 

Jasmine  thought  that  no  time  should  be  lost 
in  reducing  Miss  King  to  the  same  spirit  of  ac- 
quiescence to  which  Wei  had  been  brought,  and 
on  the  evening  of  her  wedding-day  she  broached 
the  subject  to  Tu. 

"  I  shall  not  feel,  Tu,  dear,"  she  said,  "  that  I 
have  gained  absolution  for  my  many  deceptions 
until  that  very  forward  Miss  King  has  been  talked 
over  into  marrying  Wei ;  and  I  insist,  therefore," 
she  added,  with  an  amount  of  hesitancy  which  re- 
duced the  demand  to  the  level  of  a  plaintive  ap- 
peal, "  that  we  start  to-morrow  for  Ch'engtu  to  see 
the  young  woman." 

"  Ho!  ho! "  replied  Tu,  intensely  amused  at  her 
attempted  bravado.  "These  are  brave  words, 
and  I  suppose  that  I  must  humbly  register  your 
decrees." 

"  O  Tu,  you  know  what  I  mean.  You  know 
that,  like  a  child  who  takes  a  delight  in  conquering 
toy  armies,  I  love  to  fancy  that  I  can  command 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  123 

so  strong  a  man  as  you  are.  But,  Tu,  if  you  knew 
how  absolutely  I  rely  on  your  judgment,  you  would 
humour  my  folly  and  say  yes." 

There  was  a  subtle  incense  of  love  and  flattery 
about  this  appeal  which,  backed  as  it  was  by  a  look 
of  tenderness  and  beauty,  made  it  irresistible  ;  and 
the  arrangements  for  the  journey  were  made  in 
strict  accordance  with  Jasmine's  wishes. 

On  arriving  at  the  inn  which  was  so  full  of 
chastening  memories  to  Jasmine,  Tu  sent  his  card 
to  Mr.  ,King,  who,  flattered  by  the  attention  paid 
him  by  so  eminent  a  scholar,  cordially  invited  Tu 
to  his  house. 

"  To  what,"  he  said,  as  Tu,  responding  to  his  in- 
vitation, entered  his  reception-hall,  "  am  I  to  at- 
tribute the  honour  of  receiving  your  illustrious 
steps  in  my  mean  apartments?" 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Tu,  "  that  the  beautiful 
Miss  King  is  your  Excellency's  cousin,  and  having 
a  friend  who  is  desirous  of  gaining  her  hand,  I 
have  come  to  plead  on  his  behalf." 

"  I  regret  to  say,"  replied  King,  "  that  your  Ex- 
cellency has  come  too  late,  as  she  has  already 
received  an  engagement  token  from  a  Mr.  Wen, 
who  passed  here  lately  on  his  way  to  Peking." 

"  Mr.  Wen  is  a  friend  of  mine  also,"  said  Tu, 
"  and  it  was  because  I  knew  that  his  troth  was  al- 
ready plighted  that  I  ventured  to  come  on  behalf 
of  him  of  whom  I  have  spoken." 

"  Mr.  Wen,"  said  King,  "  is  a  gentleman  and  a 


124  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

scholar,  and  having  given  a  betrothal  present,  he 
is  certain  to  communicate  with  us  direct  in  case 
of  any  difficulty." 

"  Will  you,  old  gentleman,"  1  said  Tu,  producing 
the  lines  which  Miss  King  had  sent  Jasmine,  "  just 
cast  your  eyes  over  these  verses,  written  to  Wen  by 
your  cousin?  Feeling  most  regretfully  that  he 
was  unable  to  fulfil  his  engagement,  Wen  gave 
these  to  me  as  a  testimony  of  the  truth  of  what  I 
now  tell  you." 

King  took  the  paper  handed  him  by  Tu,  and 
recognised  at  a  glance  his  cousin's  handwriting. 

"  Alas! "  he  said,  "  Mr.  Wen  told  us  he  was  en- 
gaged, but,  not  believing  him,  I  urged  him  to  con- 
sent to  marry  my  cousin.  If  you  will  excuse  me, 
sir,"  he  added,  "  I  will  consult  with  the  lady  as  to 
what  should  be  done." 

After  a  short  absence  he  returned. 

"  My  cousin  is  of  opinion,"  he  said,  "  that  she 
cannot  enter  into  any  new  engagement  until  Mr. 
Wen  has  come  here  himself  and  received  back 
the  betrothal  present  which  he  gave  her  on  part- 
ing." 

"  I  dare  not  deceive  you,  old  gentleman,  and 
will  tell  you  at  once  that  that  betrothal  present 
was  not  Wen's,  but  was  my  unworthy  friend  Wei's, 
and  came  into  Wen's  possession  in  a  way  that  I 
need  not  now  explain." 

"  Still,"  said  King,  ''  my  cousin  thinks  Mr.  Wen 
should  present  himself  here  in  person  and  tell  his 
1  A  term  of  respect. 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  125 

own  story;    and   I  must   say  that  I   am  of  her 
opinion." 

"It  is  quite  impossible  that  Mr.  Wen  should  re- 
turn here,"  replied  Tu;  "but  my  'stupid  thorn  ' 1 
is  in  the  adjoining  hostelry,  and  would  be  most 
happy  to  explain  fully  to  Miss  King  Wen's  entire 
inability  to  play  the  part  of  a  husband  to  her." 

"  If  your  honourable  consort  would  meet  my 
cousin,  she,  I  am  sure,  will  be  glad  to  talk  the 
matter  over  with  her." 

With  Tu's  permission,  Miss  King's  maid  was 
sent  to  the  inn  to  invite  Jasmine  to  call  on  her 
mistress.  The  maid,  who  was  the  same  who  had 
acted  as  Miss  King's  messenger  on  the  former  oc- 
casion, glanced  long  and  earnestly  at  Jasmine. 
Her  features  were  familiar  to  her,  but  she  could 
not  associate  them  w'th  any  lady  of  her  acquain- 
tance. As  she  conducted  her  to  Miss  King's  apart- 
ments, she  watched  her  stealthily,  and  became 
more  and  more  puzzled  by  her  appearance.  Miss 
King  received  her  with  civility,  and  after  exchang- 
ing wishes  that  each  might  be  granted  ten  thousand 
blessings,  Jasmine  said,  smiling : 

"  Do  you  recognise  Mr.  Wen  ?  " 

Miss  King  looked  at  her,  and  seeing  in  her  a 
likeness  to  her  beloved,  said  : 

"What  relation  are  you  to  him,  lady?" 

"  I  am  his  very  self!  "  said  Jasmine. 

Miss  King  opened  her  eyes  wide  at  this  startling 
announcement,  and  gazed  earnestly  at  her. 
i  Wife. 


126  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

"  Haiyah!"  cried  her  maid,  clapping  her  hands, 
"  I  thought  there  was  a  wonderful  likeness  between 
the  lady  and  Mr.  Wen.  But  who  would  have 
thought  that  she  was  he?" 

"  But  what  made  you  disguise  yourself  in  that 
fashion?"  asked  Miss  King,  in  an  abashed  and 
somewhat  vexed  tone. 

"  My  father  was  in  difficulties,"  said  Jasmine, 
"  and  as  it  was  necessary  that  I  should  go  to  Pe- 
king to  plead  for  him,  I  dressed  as  a  man  for  the 
convenience  of  travel.  You  will  remember  that 
in  the  first  instance  I  declined  your  flattering  over- 
tures, but  when  I  found  that  you  persisted  in  your 
proposal,  not  being  able  to  explain  the  truth,  I 
thought  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  hand  you  my 
friend's  betrothal  present  which  I  had  with  me,  in- 
tending to  return  and  explain  matters.  And  you 
will  admit  that  in  one  thing  I  was  truthful." 

"  What  was  that?  "  asked  the  maid. 

"  Why,"  answered  Jasmine,  "  I  said  that  if  I 
did  not  marry  your  lady  I  would  never  marry  any 
woman." 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  the  maid,  laughing,  "  you  have 
kept  your  faith  royally  there." 
•  "The  friend  I  speak  of,"  continued  Jasmine, 
"  has  now  taken  his  doctor's  degree,  and  this  stupid 
husband  and  wife  have  come  from  Mienchu  to 
make  you  a  proposal  on  his  behalf." 

Miss  King  was  not  one  who  could  readily  take  in 
an  entirely  new  and  startling  idea,  and  she  sat  with 
a  half-dazed  look,  staring  at  Jasmine  without  utter- 


A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE.  127 

ing  a  word.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  maid,  the 
conversation  would  have  ceased;  but  that  young 
woman  was  determined  to  probe  the  matter  to  the 
bottom. 

"  You  have  not  told  us,"  she  said,  "  the  gentle- 
man's name.  And  will  you  explain  why  you  call 
him  your  friend?  How  could  you  be  on  terms  of 
friendship  with  him?  " 

"  From  my  childhood,"  said  Jasmine,  "  I  have 
always  dressed  as  a  boy.  I  went  to  a  boys' 
school — " 

"Haiyahf"  interjected  the  maid. 

"  And  afterward  I  joined  my  husband  and  this 
gentleman,  Mr.  Wei,  in  a  reading-party." 

"  Did  n't  they  discover  your  secret?  " 

"No." 

"  Never?  " 

"  Never." 

"  That  's  odd,"  said  the  maid.  "  But  will  you 
tell  us  something  about  this  Mr.  Wei?  " 

Upon  this,  Jasmine  launched  out  in  a  glowing 
eulogy  upon  her  friend.  She  expatiated  with  fer- 
vour on  his  youth,  good  looks,  learning,  and  pros- 
pects, and  with  such  effect  did  she  speak  that  Miss 
King,  who  began  to  take  in  the  situation,  ended 
by  accepting  cordially  Jasmine's  proposal. 

"  And  now,  lady,  you  must  stay  and  dine  with 
me,"  said  Miss  King,  when  the  bargain  was  struck, 
"  while  my  cousin  entertains  your  husband  in  the 
hall." 

At  this  meal  the  beginning  of  a  friendship  was 


128  A    CHINESE    GIRL    GRADUATE. 

formed  between  the  two  ladies  which  lasted  ever 
afterward,  though  it  was  somewhat  unevenly 
balanced.  Jasmine's  stronger  nature  felt  compas- 
sion mingled  with  liking  for  the  pretty  doll-like 
Miss  King,  while  that  young  lady  entertained  the 
profoundest  admiration  for  her  guest. 

There  was  nothing  to  delay  the  fulfilment  of 
the  engagement  thus  happily  arranged,  and  at  the 
next  full  moon  Miss  King  had  an  opportunity  of 
comparing  her  bridegroom  with  the  picture  which 
Jasmine  had  drawn  of  him. 

Scholars  are  plentiful  in  China,  but  it  was  plainly 
impossible  that  men  of  such  distinguished  learning  as 
Tu  and  Wei  should  be  left  among  the  unemployed, 
and  almost  immediately  after  their  marriage  they 
were  appointed  to  important  posts  in  the  empire. 
Tu  rose  rapidly  to  the  highest  rank,  and  died,  at 
a  good  old  age,  viceroy  of  the  metropolitan  prov- 
ince and  senior  guardian  to  the  heir  apparent. 
Wei  was  not  so  supremely  fortunate,  but  then,  as 
Tu  used  to  say,  "he  had  not  a  Jasmine  to  help 
him." 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE 

BY 

MARY  BEAUMONT 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE 

BY    MARY    BEAUMONT 

r  I AHE  low  hedge,  where  the  creepers  climbed, 
\_  divided  the  lawn  and  its  magnificent  Wel- 
lingtonias  from  the  meadow.  There  was  little 
grass  to  be  seen,  for  it  was  at  this  time  one  vast 
profusion  of  delicate  ixias  of  every  bright  and  ten- 
der shade. 

The  evening  was  still,  and  the  air  heavy  with 
scent.  In  a  room  opening  upon  the  veranda, 
wreathed  with  white-and-scarlet  passion-flowers, 
where  she  could  see  the  garden  and  the  meadow, 
and,  beyond  all,  the  Mountain  Beautiful,  lay  a  sick 
woman.  Her  dark  face  was  lovely  as  an  autumn 
leaf  is  lovely — hectic  with  the  passing  life.  Her 
eyes  wandered  to  the  upper  snows  of  the  moun- 
tain, from  time  to  time  resting  upon  the  brown- 
haired  English  girl  who  sat  on  a  low  stool  by  her 
side,  holding  the  frail  hand  in  her  cool,  firm  clasp. 

The  invalid  was  speaking;  her  voice  was  curi- 
ously sweet,  and  there  was  a  peculiarity  about  the 
"s,"  and  an  occasional  turn  of  the  sentence, 
which  told  the  listener  that  her  English  was  an  ac- 
quired language. 


132       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

"  I  am  glad  he  is  not  here,"  she  said,  slowly. 
"  I  do  not  want  him  to  have  pain." 

"  But  perhaps,  Mrs.  Denison,  you  will  be  much 
better  in  a  day  or  two,  and  able  to  welcome  him 
when  he  comes  back." 

"  No,  I  shall  not  be  here  when  he  comes  back, 
and  it  is  just  as  it  should  be.  I  asked  him  to  turn 
round  as  he  left  the  garden,  and  I  could  see  him, 
oh,  so  well !  He  looked  kind  and  so  beautiful,  and 
he  waved  to  me  his  hand.  Now  he  will  come 
back,  and  he  will  be  sad.  He  did  not  want  to 
leave  me,  but  the  governor  sent  for  him.  He 
will  be  sad,  and  he  will  remember  that  I  loved 
him,  and  some  day  he  will  be  glad  again."  She 
smiled  into  the  troubled  face  near  her. 

The  girl  stroked  the  thick  dark  hair  lovingly. 

"  Don't,"  she  implored ;  "  it  hurts  me.  You  are 
better  to-night,  and  the  children  are  coming  in." 
Mrs.  Denison  closed  her  eyes,  and  with  her  left 
hand  she  covered  her  face. 

"  No,  not  the  children,"  she  whispered,  "  not 
my  darlings.  I  cannot  bear  it.  I  must  see  them 
no  more."  She  pressed  her  companion's  hand 
with  a  sudden  close  pressure.  "  But  you  will 
help  them,  Alice  ;  you  will  make  them  English  like 
you — like  him.  We  will  not  pretend  to-night ;  it 
is  not  long  that  I  shall  speak  to  you.  I  ask  you 
to  promise  me  to  help  them  to  be  English." 

"  Dear,"  the  girl  urged,  "  they  are  such  a  deli- 
cious mixture  of  England  and  New  Zealand — 
prettier,  sweeter  than  any  mere  English  child  could 
ever  be.  They  are  enchanting." 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE.       133 

But  into  the  dying  woman's  eyes  leaped  an  eager 
flame. 

"They  must  be  all  English,  no  Maori!"  she 
cried.  A  violent  fit  of  coughing  interrupted  her, 
and  when  the  paroxysm  was  over  she  was  too  ex- 
hausted to  speak.  The  English  nurse,  Mrs.  Bent- 
ley,  an  elderly  Yorkshire  woman,  who  had  been 
with  Mrs.  Denison  since  her  first  baby  came  six 
years  ago,  and  who  had,  in  fact,  been  Horace 
Denison's  own  nurse-maid,  came  in  and  sent 
the  agitated  girl  into  the  garden.  "  For  you 
have  n't  had  a  breath  of  fresh  air  to-day,"  she 
said. 

At  the  door  Alice  turned.  The  large  eyes  were 
resting  upon  her  with  an  intent  and  solemn  re- 
gard, in  which  lay  a  message.  "What  was  it?" 
she  thought,  as  she  passed  through  the  wide  hall 
sweet  with  flowers.  "  She  wanted  to  say  some- 
thing ;  I  am  sure  she  did.  To-morrow  I  will  ask 
her."  But  before  the  morrow  came  she  knew. 
Mrs.  Denison  had  said  good-bye. 

The  funeral  was  over.  Mr.  Denison,  who  had 
looked  unaccountably  ill  and  weary  for  months, 
had  been  sent  home  by  Dr.  Danby  for  at  least  a 
year's  change  and  rest,  and  the  doctor's  young 
sister  had  yielded  to  various  pressure,  and  promised 
to  stay  with  the  children  until  he  returned.  There 
was  every  reason  for  it.  She  had  loved  and  been 
loved  by  the  gentle  Maori  mother ;  she  delighted 
in  the  dark  beauty  and  sweetness  of  the  children. 
And  they,  on  their  side,  clung  to  her  as  to  an 
adorable  fairy  relative,  dowered  with  love  and  the 


134       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

fruits  of  love — tales  and  new  games  and  tender 
ways.  Best  reason  of  all,  in  a  sense,  Mrs.  Bent- 
ley,  that  kind  autocrat,  entreated  her  to  stay,  "  as 
the  happiest  thing  for  the  children,  and  to  please 
that  poor  lamb  we  laid  yonder,  who  fair  longed 
that  you  should !  She  was  mightily  taken  up  with 
you,  Miss  Danby,  and  you  Ve  your  brother  and 
his  wife  near,  so  that  you  won't  be  lonesome,  and 
if  there  's  aught  I  can  do  to  make  you  comfort- 
able, you  've  only  to  speak,  miss."  As  for  Mr. 
Denison,  he  was  pathetically  grateful  and  relieved 
when  Alice  promised  to  remain. 

After  the  evening  romp  and  the  last  good- 
night, when  the  two  elder  children,  Ben  and 
Marie,  called  after  her  mother,  Maritana,  had 
given  her  their  last  injunctions  to  be  sure  and 
come  for  them  "her  very  own  self"  on  her  way 
down  to  breakfast  in  the  morning,  she  usually  rode 
down  between  the  cabbage-trees,  down  by  the  old 
rata,  fired  last  autumn,  away  through  the  grass- 
lands to  the  doctor's  house,  a  few  miles  nearer 
Rochester;  or  he  and  his  wife  would  ride  out  to 
chat  with  her.  But  there  were  many  evenings  when 
she  preferred  the  quiet  of  the  airy  house  and  the 
garden.  The  colonial  life  was  new  to  her,  every- 
thing had  its  charm,  and  in  the  colonies  there  is 
always  a  letter  to  write  to  those  at  home — the  mail- 
bag  is  never  satisfied.  On  such  evenings  it  was 
her  custom  to  cross  the  meadow  to  the  copse  of 
feathery  trees  beyond,  where,  sung  to  by  the  brook 
and  the  Tui,1  the  children's  mother  slept.  And 
*  Tui— 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE.       135 

from  the  high  presence  of  the  Mountain  Beauti- 
ful there  fell  a  dew  of  peace. 

She  would  often  ask  Mrs.  Bentley  to  sit  with 
her  until  bedtime,  and  revel  in  the  shrewd  north- 
country  woman's  experiences,  and  her  impressions 
of  the  new  land  to  which  love  had  brought  her. 
Both  women  grew  to  have  a  sincere  and  trustful 
affection  for  each  other,  and  one  night,  seven  or 
eight  months  after  Mrs.  Denison's  death,  Mrs. 
Bentley  told  a  story  which  explained  what  had  fre- 
quently puzzled  Alice — the  patient  sorrow  in  Mrs. 
Denison's  eyes,  and  Mr.  Denison's  harassed  and 
dejected  manner.  "  But  for  your  goodness  to  the 
children,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  and  the  way  that 
precious  baby  takes  to  you,  I  don't  think  I  should 
be  willing  to  say  what  I  am  going  to  do,  miss. 
Though  my  dear  mistress  wished  it,  and  said,  the 
very  last  night,  '  You  must  tell  her  all  about  it, 
some  day,  Nana,' — and  I  promised,  to  quiet  her, — 
I  don't  think  I  could  bring  myself  to  it  if  I  had  n't 
lived  with  you  and  known  you."  And  then  the 
good  nurse  told  her  strange  and  moving  tale. 

She  described  how  her  master  had  come  out 
young  and  careless-hearted  to  New  Zealand  in  the 
service  of  the  government,  and  how  scandalised 
and  angry  his  father  and  mother,  the  old  Tory 
squire  and  his  wife,  had  been  to  receive  from 
him,  after  a  year  or  two,  letters  brimming  with  a 
boyish  love  for  his  "beautiful  Maori  princess," 
whom  he  described  as  having  "  the  sweetest  heart 
and  the  loveliest  eyes  in  the  world."  It  gave 
them  little  comfort  to  hear  that  her  father  was  one 


136       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

of  the  wealthiest  Maoris  in  the  island,  and  that, 
though  but  half  civilised  himself,  he  had  had  his 
daughter  well  educated  in  the  "bishop's"  and 
other  English  schools.  To  them  she  was  a  sav- 
age. There  was  no  threat  of  disinheritance,  for 
there  was  nothing  for  him  to  inherit.  There  was 
little  money,  and  the  estate  was  entailed  on  the 
elder  brother.  But  all  that  could  be  done  to  in- 
timidate him  was  done,  and  in  vain.  Then  silence 
fell  between  the  parents  and  the  son. 

But  one  spring  day  came  the  news  of  a  grand- 
son, called  Benjamin  after  his  grandfather,  and 
an  urgent  letter  from  their  boy  himself,  enclosing 
a  prettily  and  humbly  worded  note  from  the  new 
strange  daughter,  begging  for  an  English  nurse. 
She  told  them  that  she  had  now  no  father  and  no 
mother,  for  they  had  died  before  the  baby  came, 
and  if  she  might  love  her  husband's  parents  a  little 
she  would  be  glad. 

"  My  lady  read  the  letters  to  me  herself,"  Mrs. 
Bentley  said ;  "  I  'd  taken  the  housekeeper's  place 
a  bit  before,  and  she  asked  me  to  find  her  a  sensi- 
ble young  woman.  Well,  I  tried,  but  there  was  n't 
a  girl  in  the  place  that  was  fit  to  nurse  Master 
Horace's  child.  And  the  end  of  it  was,  I  came 
myself,  for  Master  Horace  had  been  like  my  own 
when  he  was  a  little  lad.  My  lady  pretended  to 
be  vexed  with  me,  but  the  day  I  sailed  she  thanked 
me  in  words  I  never  thought  to  hear  from  her,  for 
she  was  a  bit  proud  always."  The  faithful  ser- 
vant's voice  trembled.  She  leaned  back  in  her 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE.       137 

chair,  and  forgot  for  the  moment  the  new  house 
and  the  new  duties.  She  was  back  again  in  the 
old  nursery  with  the  fair-haired  child  playing 
about  her  knees.  But  Alice's  face  recalled  her, 
and  she  continued  the  story.  She  had,  she  said, 
dreaded  the  meeting  with  her  new  mistress,  and 
was  prepared  to  find  her  "a  sort  of  a  heathen 
woman,  who  'd  pull  down  Master  Horace  till  he 
could  n't  call  himself  a  gentleman." 

But  when  she  saw  the  graceful  creature  who  re- 
ceived her  with  gentle  words  and  gestures  of  kind- 
liness, and  when  she  found  her  young  master  not 
only  content,  but  happy,  and  when  she  took  in  her 
arms  the  laughing  healthy  baby,  she  felt — though 
she  regretted  its  dark  eyes  and  hair — more  at  home 
than  she  could  have  believed  possible.  The  nurs- 
eries were  so  large  and  comfortable,  and  so  much 
consideration  was  shown  to  her,  that  she  confessed, 
"  I  should  have  been  more  ungrateful  than  a  cat 
if  I  had  n't  settled  comfortable." 

Then  came  nearly  five  happy  years,  during 
which  time  her  young  mistress  had  found  a  warm 
and  secure  place  in  the  good  Yorkshire  heart. 
"She  was  that  loving  and  that  kind  that  Dick 
Burdas,  the  groom,  used  to  say  that  he  believed  she 
was  an  angel  as  had  took  up  with  them  dark  folks, 
to  show  'em  what  an  angel  was  like."  Mrs.  Bent- 
ley  went  on : 

"She  was  n't  always  quite  happy,  and  I  won- 
dered what  brought  the  shadow  into  her  face,  and 
why  she  would  at  times  sigh  that  deep  that  I  could 


138       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

have  cried.  After  a  bit  I  knew  what  it  was.  It 
was  the  Maori  in  her.  She  told  me  one  night  that 
she  was  a  wicked  woman,  and  ought  never  to  have 
married  Master  Horace,  for  she  got  tired  sometimes 
of  the  English  house  and  its  ways,  and  longed  for 
her  father's  whare ;  (that  's  a  native  hut,  miss). 
She  grieved  something  awful  one  day  when  she 
had  been  to  see  old  Tim,  the  Maori  who  lives  be- 
hind the  stables.  She  called  herself  a  bad  and 
ungrateful  woman,  and  thought  there  must  be 
some  evil  spirit  in  her  tempting  her  into  the  old 
ways,  because,  when  she  saw  Tim  eating,  and  you 
know  what  bad  stuff  they  eat,  she  had  fair  longed 
to  join  him.  She  gave  me  a  fright  I  did  n't  get 
over  for  nigh  a  week.  She  leaned  her  bonny  head 
against  my  knee,  and  I  stroked  her  cheek  and 
hummed  some  silly  nursery  tune, — for  she  was  all 
of  a  tremble  and  like  a  child, — and  she  fell  asleep 
just  where  she  was." 

"  Poor  thing! "  said  Alice,  softly. 

"  Eh,  but  it 's  what  's  coming  that  upsets  me, 
ma'am.  Eh,  what  suffering  for  my  pretty  lamb, 
and  her  that  would  n't  have  hurt  a  worm !  Baby 
would  be  about  six  months  old  when  she  came  in 
one  day  with  him  in  her  arms,  and  they  were  a 
picture.  His  little  hand  was  fast  in  her  hair.  She 
always  walked  as  if  she  'd  wheels  in  her  feet,  that 
gliding  and  graceful.  She  had  on  a  sort  of 
sheeny  yellow  silk,  and  her  cheeks  were  like  them 
damask  roses  at  home,  and  her  eyes  fair  shone  like 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE.       139 

stars.  '  Is  n't  he  a  beauty,  Nana?  '  she  asked  me. 
'  If  only  he  had  blue  eyes,  and  that  hair  of  gold 
like  my  husband's,  and  not  these  ugly  eyes  of 
mine ! '  And  as  she  spoke  she  sighed  as  I  dreaded 
to  hear.  Then  she  told  me  to  help  her  to  unpack 
her  new  dress  from  Paris,  which  she  was  to  wear  at 
the  Rochester  races  the  next  day.  Master  Horace 
always  chose  her  dresses,  and  he  was  right  proud 
of  her  in  them.  And  next  morning  he  came  into 
the  nursery  with  her,  and  she  was  all  in  pale  red, 
and  that  beautiful !  '  Is  n't  she  scrumptious,  Na- 
na? '  he  said,  in  his  boyish  way.  '  Don't  spoil  her 
dress,  children.  How  like  her  Marie  grows!' 
Those  two  little  ones  they  had  got  her  on  her 
knees  on  the  ground,  and  were  hugging  her  as  if 
they  could  n't  let  her  go.  But  when  he  said  that, 
she  got  up  very  still  and  white. 

" '  I  am  sorry,'  she  said ;  '  they  must  never  be 
like  me.' 

" '  They  can't  be  like  any  one  better,  can  they, 
baby? '  he  answered  her,  and  he  tossed  the  child 
nearly  up  to  the  ceiling.  But  he  looked  worried 
as  he  went  out.  I  saw  them  drive  away,  and  they 
looked  happy  enough.  And  oh,  miss,  I  saw  them 
come  back.  We  were  in  the  porch,  me  and  the 
children.  Master  Horace  lifted  her  down,  and  I 
heard  him  say,  '  Never  mind,  Marie.'  But  she 
never  looked  his  way  nor  ours ;  she  walked  straight 
in  and  upstairs  to  her  room,  past  my  bonny  dar- 
ling with  his  arm  stretched  out  to  her,  and  past 


140       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

Miss  Marie,  who  was  jumping  up  and  down,  and 
shouting  '  Muvver ' ;  and  I  heard  her  door  shut. 
Then  Master  Horace  took  baby  from  me. 

" '  Go  up  to  her,'  he  said,  and  I  could  scarce 
hear  him.  His  face  was  all  drawn  like,  but  I  felt 
that  silly  and  stupid  that  I  could  say  nothing,  and 
just  went  upstairs."  Mrs.  Bentley  put  her  knit- 
ting down,  and  throwing  her  apron  over  her  head 
sobbed  aloud. 

"  O  nurse,  what  was  it?  "  cried  Alice,  and  the 
colour  left  her  cheeks.  "  Do  tell  me.  I  am  so  sorry 
for  them.  What  was  it?  "  It  was  several  minutes 
before  the  good  woman  could  recover  herself ;  then 
she  began : 

"  She  told  me,  and  Dick  Burdas  he  told  me, 
and  it  was  like  this.  When  they  got  to  the  race- 
course,— it  was  the  first  races  they  'd  had  in  Roch- 
ester,— all  the  gentry  was  there,  and  those  that 
knew  her  always  made  a  deal  of  her,  she  had  such 
half-shy,  winning  ways.  And  she  seemed  very 
bright,  Dick  said,  talking  with  the  governor's  lady, 
who  is  full  of  fun  and  sparkle.  The  carriages 
were  all  together,  and  Major  Beaumont,  a  kind  old 
gentleman  who  's  always  been  a  good  friend  to 
Master  Horace,  would  have  them  in  his  carriage 
for  luncheon,  or  whatever  it  was.  Dick  says  he 
was  thinking  that  she  was  the  prettiest  lady  there, 
when  his  eye  was  caught  by  two  or  three  parties 
of  Maoris  setting  themselves  right  in  front  of  the 
carriages.  There  were  four  or  five  in  each  lot,  and 
they  were  mostly  old.  They  got  out  their  sharks' 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE.      141 

flesh  and  that  bad  corn  they  eat,  and  began  to 
make  their  meal  of  them.  Near  Mrs.  Denison 
there  was  one  old  man  with  a  better  sort  of  face, 
and  Dick  heard  her  say  to  master,  '  Is  n't  he  like 
my  father? '  What  Master  Horace  answered  he 
did  n't  hear ;  he  says  he  never  saw  anything  like 
her  face,  so  sad  and  wild,  and  working  for  all  the 
world  as  if  something  were  fighting  her  within. 
Then  all  in  a  minute  she  ran  out  and  slipped  down 
in  her  beautiful  dress  close  by  the  old  Maori  in 
his  dirty  rags,  and  was  rubbing  her  face  against 
his,  as  them  folks  do  when  they  meet.  She  had 
just  taken  a  mouthful  of  the  raw  fish  when  Master 
Horace  missed  her.  He  had  n't  noticed  her  slip 
away.  But  in  a  moment  he  seemed  to  understand 
what  it  meant.  He  saw  the  Maori  come  out  strong 
in  her  face,  and  he  knew  the  Maori  had  got  the 
better  of  everything,  husband  and  friends  and  all. 
He  gave  a  little  cry,  and  in  a  minute  he  had  her 
on  her  feet  and  was  bringing  her  back  to  the  car- 
riage. Some  folks  thought  Dick  Burdas  a  rough, 
hard  man,  and  I  know  he  was  a  shocker  of  a  lad 
(he  was  fra  Whitby),  but  that  night  he  cried  like  a 
babby  when  he  tell  't  me,"  and  Mrs.  Bentley  fell 
for  a  moment  into  the  dialect  of  her  youth. 

"  He  said,"  she  continued,  "  that  she  looked 
like  a  poor  stricken  thing  condemned,  and  let  her- 
self be  led  back  as  submissive  as  a  child,  and  Mas- 
ter Horace's  face  was  like  the  dead.  He  did  n't 
think  any  one  but  the  major  and  Dr.  Danby  saw 
her  go,  all  was  done  in  a  minute.  But  it  was  done, 


142       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

and  some  few  had  seen,  and  it  got  out,  and  things 
were  said  that  was  n't  true.  Not  the  doctor! 
No,  miss,  you  need  n't  tell  me  that ;  he  's  told 
none,  that  I  '11  warrant.  He  's  faithful  and  he  's 
close." 

"  O  Mrs.  Bentley,  how  dreadful  for  her,  how 
dreadful ! "  and  the  girl  went  down  on  her  knees 
by  the  old  woman,  her  tears  flowing  fast. 

"  That 's  it,  miss,  you  understand.  I  feel  like 
that.  It  was  bad  enough  for  Master  Horace  with 
the  future  before  him,  and  his  children  to  think  of, 
but  for  her  it  was  desperate  cruel.  Eh,  ma'am, 
what  she  went  through!  She  loved  more  than 
you  'd  have  thought  us  poor  human  beings  could. 
And,  after  all,  the  nature  was  in  her ;  she  did  n't 
put  it  there.  I  've  had  a  deal  to  do  to  keep  down 
sinful  thoughts  since  then ;  there  's  a  lot  of  things 
that  's  wrong  in  this  world,  ma'am." 

"What  did  she  do?  "  Alice  whispered. 

"She!  She  was  for  going  away  and  leaving 
everything ;  she  felt  herself  the  worst  woman  in  the 
world.  It  was  only  by  begging  and  praying  of  her 
on  my  knees  that  I  got  her  to  stay  in  the  house  that 
night,  for  she  was  so  far  English,  and  had  such  a 
fancy,  that  she  saw  everything  blacker  than  any 
Englishwoman  would,  even  the  partick'lerest. 
Afterward  Master  Horace  was  that  good  and 
gentle,  and  she  loved  him  so  much,  that  he  per- 
suaded her  to  say  nothing  more  about  it,  and  to 
try  to  live  as  if  it  had  n't  been.  And  so  she  seemed 
to  do,  outward  like,  to  other  people.  But  it  was  n't 


THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE.       143 

ever  the  same  again.  Something  had  broken  in 
them  both  ;  with  him  it  was  his  trust  and  his  pride, 
but  in  her  it  was  her  heart." 

"  But  the  children— surely  they  comforted  her." 

"  Eh,  miss,  that  was  the  worst.  Poor  lamb,  poor 
lamb!  Never  after  that  day,  though  they  were 
more  to  her  nor  children  ever  were  to  a  mother 
before,  would  she  have  them  with  her.  Just  a 
morning  and  a  good-night  kiss,  and  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  at  most,  and  I  must  take  them  away.  She 
watched  them  play  in  the  garden  from  her  window 
or  the  little  hill  there,  and  when  they  were  asleep 
she  would  sit  by  them  for  hours,  saying  how  bonny 
they  were  and  how  good  they  were  growing. 
And  she  looked  after  their  clothes  and  their  food 
and  every  little  toy  and  pleasure,  but  never  came 
in  for  a  romp  and  a  chat  any  more." 

"  Dear,  brave  heart! "  murmured  the  girl. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  you  feel  for  her,  I  know.  She 
was  fair  terrified  of  them  turning  Maori  and  sham- 
ing their  father.  That  was  it.  You  did  n't  notice? 
No ;  after  you  came  she  was  too  ill  to  bear  them 
about,  and  it  seemed  natural,  I  dare  say.  The 
Maoris  are  a  fearful  delicate  set  of  folks.  A  ,bad 
cold  takes  them  off  into  consumption  directly. 
And  with  her  there  was  the  sorrow  as  well  as  the 
cold.  It  was  wonderful  that  she  lived  so  long." 

Alice  threw  her  arms  round  Mrs.  Bentley's  neck. 

"  O  nurse,  it  is  all  so  dreadful  and  sad. 
Could  n't  we  have  somehow  kept  her  with  us  and 
made  her  happy?  " 


144       THE  REVENGE  OF  HER  RACE. 

The  old  woman  held  her  close.  "  Nay,  my  dear 
bairn,  never  after  that  happened.  It,  or  worse, 
might  have  come  again.  It 's  something  stronger 
in  them  than  we  know ;  it  's  the  very  blood,  I  'm 
thinking.  But  she  's  gone  to  be  the  angel  that 
Dick  always  said  she  was." 

Alice  looked  away  over  the  starlit  garden  to 
where  the  plumy  trees  stirred  in  the  night  wind. 
"No,"  she  said,  fervently,  "not  'gone  to  be,' 
nurse  dear ;  she  was  an  angel  always.  Dick  was 
right." 


KING  BILLY  OF  BALLARAT 

BY 

MORLEY   ROBERTS 


KING  BILLY  OF  BALLARAT 

BY    MORLEY    ROBERTS. 

ING  Billy  was  given  to  strolling  up  and  down 
the  streets  of  Ballarat  when  that  eviscerated 
city  was  merely  in  process  of  disembowelment,  be- 
fore alluvial  mining  gave  way  to  quartz-crushing, 
when  the  individual  had  a  chance,  if  a  very  vague 
one,  of  sudden  and  delightful  fortune.  The  Bal- 
larat blacks  were  a  scaly  lot,  to  talk  of  them  like 
ill-fed  hogs,  as  men  were  wont  to  do.  They 
dwined  and  dwindled,  as  natives  will  before  the 
resources  of  civilisation :  the  bloodthirsty  ones  got 
killed  out ;  the  rumthirsty  ones  died  out ;  the  wild 
corroboree  was  reduced  to  a  poverty-stricken 
imitation  of  its  former  glory.  King  Billy's  author- 
ity grew  less  with  the  increase  of  his  clothes.  The 
brass  plate  with  his  name  on  it  was  about  the  last 
relic  of  his  precarious  power,  and  was  chiefly  valued 
as  a  means  of  notifying  the  public  generally  that 
they  might  stand  drinks  to  a  monarch  if  they 
saw  fit  and  were  not  too  humble.  He  was  not 
haughty,  and  never  presumed  on  his  plate,  as 
parvenus  will.  He  came  of  an  ancient  stock,  and 
could  afford  to  condescend,  even  if  he  could  [not 
afford  to  pay  for  drinks.  He  was  very  kind  to 


148  KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT. 

children, — white  children,  of  course, — and  was 
hale -fellow- well-met  with  many  of  them. 

He  was  particularly  fond  of  Annie  Colborn, 
whose  father  was  a  magistrate  and  a  gold  commis- 
sioner, and  a  person  of  very  great  importance. 
Whether  or  not  King  Billy  was  wise  in  his  genera- 
tion, and  out  of  the  unwritten  Scriptures  of  the 
somber  bush  had  culled  a  maxim  inculcating  the 
wisdom  of  making  friends  of  the  sons  of  Mam- 
mon, I  cannot  say,  but  he  was  always  good  to 
Annie.  For  my  own  part,  I  do  not  believe  the 
simple-hearted  old  king  had  any  such  notion  in- 
side his  thick  antipodean  skull.  He  was  good  be- 
cause he  was  not  bad,  which  is  the  very  best 
morality  after  all,  and  a  great  advance  on  much 
we  hear  of.  And,  besides,  he  was  sometimes 
hungry,  and  Mr.  Colborn's  Chinese  cook  was 
very  haughty,  and  not  to  be  approached  except 
through  an  intermediary.  And  who  so  capable 
of  conciliating  Wong  as  Annie?  Wong  would 
make  her  cakes  even  when  his  pigtail  hung  de- 
spondently from  his  aching  head  after  an  opium 
debauch,  and  his  cheeks  were  shining  with  any- 
thing but  gladness ;  for  if  you  get  drunk  very  often 
on  opium  you  shine. 

Old  Billy  was  mostly  to  be  found  where  there 
was  a  chance  of  a  drink;  but  if  the  fountains 
were  dried  up,  or  he  had  been  insulted  by 
some  democratic,  revolutionary,  king-hating  miner 
knocking  his  high  hat  down  over  his  eyes,  he 
usually  went  up  to  Mr.  Colborn's  place,  and  sat  on 


KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT.  149 

the  fence,  or  on  a  log  outside  the  gate.  So  he  was 
often  very  melancholy  when  Annie  came  out.  One 
day  his  hat  was  very,  very  badly  bulged  indeed. 

"Your  hat  is  very  bad  to-day,  King  Billy,"  said 
six-year-old  Annie,  as  she  stood  in  front  of  him 
critically,  with  her  head  on  one  side.  Without 
knowing  it,  the  child  had  come  to  look  upon  the 
state  of  the  poor  king's  hat  as  emblematical  of  his 
state  of  mind.  When  it  shut  up  like  a  closed  con- 
certina his  barometer  was  low. 

"Yes,  missy,"  said  the  king;  "white  man 
knock  'um  over  eyes,  and  " — with  a  rub  down  his 
face — "skin  'um  nose." 

She  inspected  his  nose  carefully — though  from 
a  certain  distance,  because  her  own  nose  was  very 
good,  both  inside  and  out,  and  she  knew  the  king 
never  got  washed  unless  it  rained  when  he  was 
very  drunk.  And  this  was  the  end  of  summer. 
It  had  not  rained  since  November. 

"  There  is  not  very  much  skin  off,"  said  Annie. 
"  You  had  better  wash  it." 

The  king  made  a  wry  face  and  changed  the 
conversation. 

"  You  got  'um  hat,  Missy  Annie?  One  hat  baal 
brokum,  allasame  white  fellow  hat.  Bad  hat,  King 
Billy  bad ;  black  fellow,  white  fellow  laugh." 

He  peered  into  his  hat,  and,  trying  to  straighten 
it  out,  put  his  fist  through  the  side.  Poor  Billy 
looked  as  if  he  could  cry. 

"  You  stop  a  minute,"  said  Annie,  and,  flying  in- 
doors, she  brought  out  a  very  good  high  hat  indeed. 


150  KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT. 

"Budgeree!"  thought  the  king,  that  was  a  good 
hat.  He  could  go  down  the  streets  like  a  king  in- 
deed, able  to  hold  up  his  head  with  any  rich  man  in 
Ballarat.  He  tried  it  on,  and  though  it  was  much 
too  big,  he  knew  it  shone.  And  the  glory  of  a  hat 
is  in  its  shining  as  much  as  its  shape  ;  even  a  black 
fellow  knows  that. 

But  that  hat  very  nearly  led  to  serious  trouble. 
For  one  thing,  Mr.  Colborn  missed  it ;  and  never 
thinking  Annie  had  given  it  away,  when  he  saw 
the  king  sitting  on  the  fence  decorated  with  it,  he 
stopped  and  interviewed  him. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  hat,  you  old  thief?  " 
asked  the  magistrate,  without  any  politeness  to  him 
who  ruled  the  land  before  white  men  broke  into  the 
country.  Some  in  authority  are  polite  to  those 
they  dispossess ;  the  Prussians,  for  instance,  to  the 
miserable  King  Billys  who  strut  about  the  empire. 
But  the  Anglo-Saxon  only  respects  himself,  and 
even  that  to  a  limited  extent,  in  new  conquests. 

The  question  troubled  King  Billy  greatly.  He 
did  not  know  that  Mr.  Colborn  would  as  soon  have 
thought  of  murdering  Annie  as  of  bullying  her ;  so 
he  lied  promptly :  "  Me  buy  'um,  Mistah  Cobon!  " 

Mr.  Colborn  took  it  off  of  his  head,  and  saw 
that  it  was  his,  as  he  had  thought.  What  he  would 
have  said  I  do  not  know,  for  just  then  he  heard  a 
voice  behind  him : 

"  Papa,  it  is  my  fault ;  I  gave  it  to  King  Billy." 

Colborn  turned  round  and  took  her  up,  letting 
fall  the  hat  as  he  did  so.  Billy  made  a  jump, 


KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT.  151 

picked  it  up,  and,  in  his  agitation,  brushed  it  care- 
fully the  wrong  way. 

"  My  dear,  if  you  gave  it  him  it 's  all  right.  But 
why  did  n't  the  old  fool  tell  me?  " 

"  He  's  not  an  old  fool,  papa,  and  you  must  not 
say  so.  He  's  a  good  man,  and  I  think  he  thought 
you  would  be  angry  with  me.  Did  n't  you,  King 
Billy?  "  And  the  king,  with  a  smile  of  conscious 
rectitude,  admitted  it  was  so. 

Mr.  Colborn  gave  him  sixpence ;  and  he  gave 
Annie  a  great  many  kisses,  declaring,  with  uncom- 
mon thoughtlessness,  that  whatever  she  did  was 
right,  and  that  she  could  give  the  king  all  his 
house,  and  Australia  to  boot.  Whereon  King 
Billy  smiled  a  smile  that  was  portentous,  and 
showed  his  teeth  to  the  uttermost  recesses  of  his 
ample  mouth.  Looking  down,  he  surveyed  the 
rest  of  his  clothes,  which  in  parts  resembled  the 
child's  definition  of  a  net  as  a  lot  of  holes  tied  to- 
gether with  string,  and,  looking  up,  he  inspected 
Mr.  Colborn  as  if  estimating  the  resources  of  his 
wardrobe.  But  being  urgently  smitten  with  the 
necessity  of  getting  rid  of  his  sixpence,  he  shambled 
off  into  the  town.  Other  matters  might  wait ;  that 
admitted  of  no  delay. 

The  mind  of  King  Billy  was  not  a  big  mind ; 
it  would  no  more  have  taken  in  an  abstract  idea 
than  his  gunyah  would  have  accommodated  a 
grand  piano.  He  was  as  simple  as  sunlight,  and 
to  resolve  his  intellect  into  seven  colours  would 
want  the  most  ingenious  spectroscope.  But  he 


152  KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT. 

could  make  an  inference  from  a  positive  fact, 
and,  having  made  it,  he  did  not  allow  more  re- 
mote deductions  to  trouble  his  legitimate  con- 
clusion. He  ceased  to  fear  Mr.  Colborn,  and 
began  to  look  upon  the  magistrate's  property  as  if 
it  were  at  least  half  his  own.  So  he  got  very 
drunk  on  the  hospitality  of  a  new  chum  miner  who 
had  been  successful,  and  presently,  presuming  on 
his  new  possessions,  got  into  a  fight  with  his  en- 
tertainer and  a  disrespectful  subking  of  his  own 
blacks,  and  was  reduced  to  worse  rags  than  ever. 

Next  morning  he  sat  outside  the  magistrate's 
house,  on  the  lowest  log  he  could  find,  and  when 
Mr.  Colborn  came  out  he  tackled  him  with  the 
air  of  a  subject  king  demanding  redress  of  his 
suzerain. 

"Well,  Billy,  what  is  it?  "  asked  the  suzerain. 

"You  belong  gublement?  "  said  Billy  the  king, 
with  a  question,  an  implied  doubt,  and  a  great 
complaint  in  his  voice.  Colborn  laughed. 

"  Why,  yes,  Billy ;  I  belong  to  the  government, 
I  suppose." 

"Then,"  said  Billy,  "what  you  say  to  white 
fellow  make  'um  black  fellow  drunk,  knock  'um 
all  about?  Call  you  that  gublement?  "  And  he 
showed  his  kingly  robe,  which  had  once  been  a 
frock-coat,  with  great  disgust. 

However,  he  met  with  no  favour,  and  was  told 
that  he  should  not  get  drunk — that  it  served  him 
right ;  with  which  magisterial  decision  Colborn  got 
on  his  horse  and  rode  off  to  the  flat. 


KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT.  153 

The  king  sat  down  sadly  and  considered  thickly 
in  his  slow  brain.  Annie  did  not  come  out,  and 
he  knew  better  than  to  ask  for  her,  for  Mr.  Col- 
born's  niece,  who  kept  house  for  him,  was  but 
newly  come  from  home,  and  thought  all  black  fel- 
lows congenital  murderers,  which  indeed  they  are 
in  some  parts  of  the  north.  So  Billy  sat  and 
waited,  for  he  wanted  a  new  coat.  How  could 
he  be  respected  in  one  whose  natural  divisions 
were  unnaturally  extended  to  the  very  neck?  It 
was  obviously  necessary  to  get  a  new  garment  at 
once,  and  the  best  chance  of  a  good  one  lay  in 
little  Annie's  kindness.  But  in  order  to  obviate  the 
slightest  chance  of  his  girl  patron's  refusing,  he 
must  bring  her  some  offering.  He  went  off  into 
the  bush  at  the  back  of  the  town,  and,  coming  to 
where  three  or  four  black  fellows  were  camped,  he 
sat  down  and  talked  with  them.  In  spite  of  the 
heat,  a  wretched  old  gin,  muffled  up  in  her  one 
garment,  a  ragged  blanket,  held  her  hands  over  the 
few  burning  sticks  which  represent  an  Australian 
native's  idea  of  a  fire.  Presently  King  Billy  rose, 
and,  taking  a  tomahawk,  went  farther  into  the 
bush.  He  looked  about,  and  at  last  came  to  a 
tree,  which  he  climbed  native  fashion,  first  discard- 
ing his  clothes.  When  near  the  first  big  branches 
he  came  to  a  hole,  and,  putting  in  his  hand,  he 
extracted  a  lively  young  possum  by  the  tail. 

Next  morning  he  was  sitting  on  the  Colborns' 
fence  as  usual.  At  his  feet  was  a  little  box  with 
two  or  three  slats  nailed  roughly  across  it.  Inside 


154  KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT. 

was  the  possum.  King  Billy  wondered  what  kind 
of  a  coat  he  would  get.  He  liked  a  frock-coat ; 
there  was  something  majestic  about  it,  something 
fine  and  ample.  Common  morning  coats  would 
not  do;  no  one  would  insult  a  king  by  offering 
him  tweed ;  even  little  Annie  knew  better  than 
that,  especially  if  he  gave  her  a  live  possum  he 
had  caught  himself.  And  when  Annie  did  come 
out,  she  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  delight  with 
the  possum,  and  ready  to  bestow  anything  in  the 
world  on  King  Billy. 

"  You  give  poor  Billy  one  fellow  coat,  missy,  and 
he  go  down  along  street  like  a  king." 

Annie  flew  into  the  house  and  seized  the  first 
garment  she  laid  her  little  hands  on.  It  was  her 
father's  dress-coat.  She  rolled  it  up,  and,  running 
out,  thrust  it  excitedly  into  the  king's  black  paw. 
As  he  went  off,  she  carried  the  possum  indoors, 
and  was  deliriously  happy  for  hours. 

King  Billy  hurried  into  the  bush  till  he  came  to 
a  water-hole,  and,  stripping  off  his  rags,  he  held  up 
the  coat.  His  jaw  fell ;  there  was  a  remarkable 
exiguity  about  the  coat  which  was  inexplicable. 
He  had  never  observed  such  in  his  life.  He  put 
it  on,  and,  bending  over  the  surface  of  the  still 
pool,  took  a  good  look  at  the  general  effect.  It 
was  not  bad  from  some  points  of  view,  but  Billy 
had  his  doubts  as  to  whether  he  would  be  received 
with  the  respect  due  to  his  title  if  he  went  into 
Ballarat  clothed  thus.  He  tried  to  button  it,  but 
discovered  that,  if  it  had  ever  been  intended  for 


KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT.  155 

buttoning,  he  could  not  get  it  to  meet  across  his 
chest.  He  picked  up  his  discarded  frock-coat, 
which  was  held  together  by  the  collar;  then  he 
felt  the  stuff  of  which  the  dress-coat  was  made,  and 
the  material  pleased  him.  "  Oh,  why,"  asked  Billy, 
"  had  it  not  been  made  with  front  tails?  "  He  saw 
at  last  that  this  coat  and  his  high  hat  alone  were 
insufficient  for  civilisation.  For  full  dress  in  a 
corroboree  it  might  do.  Unconsciously,  he  was  so 
wrought  upon  by  the  purpose  for  which  the  coat 
had  been  built  that  he  determined  to  reserve  it  for 
parties  in  the  seclusion  of  the  bush,  where  any 
merriment  could  be  rightly  checked  by  a  crack 
from  his  waddy.  He  planted  it  carefully  in  a  hol- 
low log,  and,  having  inserted  himself  with  as  much 
care  into  his  discarded  rags,  he  wandered  off  into 
the  town.  He  got  very  intoxicated  that  night,  and 
determined  to  have  a  party  all  by  himself. 

Now  it  may  seem  very  annoying,  and  I  confess 
I  find  it  so  myself ;  but,  having  got  so  far,  I  don't 
see  my  way  to  tell  the  rest,  even  if  Annie  Colborn 
told  me  the  story  herself.  For  after  her  father's 
death  she  married  a  man  who  had  a  small  sheep- 
station  and  a  hotel  not  forty  miles  from  Carabobla, 
in  New  South  Wales.  I  stayed  there  a  couple  of 
days  when  I  was  going  north  to  the  Murrumbidgee. 
But  though  she  told  me,  I  cannot  tell  it  again,  at 
least  not  in  bold,  bad  print.  Still,  it  will  occur  to 
most  that  a  man  of  King  Billy's  sweet  and  inno- 
cent disposition  might  very  likely  create  a  sensa- 
tion, when  his  natural  discretion  was  drowned  in 


156  KING    BILLY    OF    BALLARAT. 

bad  whisky,  if  he  ended  his  solitary  corroboree  in 
the  moonlight  by  going  up  to  Colborn's  house  in 
order  to  deliver  a  speech  of  gratitude  through  the 
French  windows. 

So  Colborn  and  the  king  had  a  corroboree  all 
to  themselves  in  the  open  space  before  the  house, 
while  the  gold  commissioner's  guests  roared  with 
laughter  to  find  out  where  the  missing  dress-coat 
was.  Next  day  King  Billy  resumed  the  split 
frock-coat. 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE 

BY 

NETTA  SYRETT 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE 

BY    NETTA    SYRETT 

THE  tents  were  pitched  in  a  little  plain  sur- 
rounded by  hills.  Right  and  left  there  were 
stretches  of  tender,  vivid  green  where  the  young 
corn  was  springing;  farther  still,  on  either  hand, 
the  plain  was  yellow  with  mustard-flower ;  but  in 
the  immediate  foreground  it  was  bare  and  stony. 
A  few  thorny  bushes  pushed  their  straggling  way 
through  the  dry  soil,  ineffectively  as  far  as  the  grace 
of  the  landscape  was  concerned,  for  they  merely 
served  to  emphasise  the  barren  aridness  of  the  land 
that  stretched  before  the  tents,  sloping  gradually 
to  the  distant  hills. 

The  hills  were  uninteresting  enough  in  them- 
selves ;  they  had  no  grandeur  of  outline,  no  pic- 
turesqueness  even,  though  at  morning  and  evening 
the  sun,  like  a  great  magician,  clothed  them  with 
beauty  at  a  touch. 

They  had  begun  to  change,  to  soften,  to  blush 
rose  red  in  the  evening  light,  when  a  woman  came 
to  the  entrance  of  the  largest  of  the  tents  and 
looked  toward  them.  She  leaned  against  the  sup- 
port on  one  side  of  the  canvas  flap,  and,  putting 
back  her  head,  rested  that,  too,  against  it,  while 


160  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

her  eyes  wandered  over  the  plain  and  over  the 
distant  hills. 

She  was  bareheaded,  for  the  covering  of  the  tent 
projected  a  few  feet  to  form  an  awning  overhead. 
The  gentle  breeze  which  had  risen  with  sundown 
stirred  the  soft  brown  tendrils  of  hair  on  her 
temples,  and  fluttered  her  pink  cotton  gown  a 
little.  She  stood  very  still,  with  her  arms  hanging 
and  her  hands  clasped  loosely  in  front  of  her. 
There  was  about  her  whole  attitude  an  air  of 
studied  quiet  which  in  some  vague  fashion  the 
slight  clasp  of  her  hands  accentuated.  Her  face, 
with  its  tightly,  almost  rigidly  closed  lips,  would 
have  been  quite  in  keeping  with  the  impression  of 
conscious  calm  which  her  entire  presence  sug- 
gested, had  it  not  been  that  when  she  raised  her 
eyes  a  strange  contradiction  to  this  idea  was 
afforded.  They  were  large  gray  eyes,  unusually 
bright  and  rather  startling  in  effect,  for  they  seemed 
the  only  live  thing  about  her.  Gleaming  from  her 
still,  set  face,  there  was  something  almost  alarming 
in  their  brilliancy.  They  softened  with  a  sudden 
glow  of  pleasure  as  they  rested  on  the  translucent 
green  of  the  wheat-fields  under  the  broad  generous 
sunlight,  and  then  wandered  to  where  the  pure 
vivid  yellow  of  the  mustard-flower  spread  in  waves 
to  the  base  of  the  hills,  now  mystically  veiled  in 
radiance.  She  stood  motionless,  watching  their 
melting,  elusive  changes  from  palpitating  rose  to 
the  transparent  purple  of  amethyst.  The  stillness 
of  evening  was  broken  by  the  monotonous,  not  un- 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  161 

musical  creaking  of  a  Persian  wheel  at  some  little 
distance  to  the  left  of  the  tent.  The  well  stood  in 
a  little  grove  of  trees ;  between  their  branches  she 
could  see,  when  she  turned  her  head,  the  coloured 
saris  of  the  village  women,  where  they  stood  in 
groups  chattering  as  they  drew  the  water,  and  the 
little  naked  brown  babies  that  toddled  beside  them 
or  sprawled  on  the  hard  ground  beneath  the  trees. 
From  the  village  of  flat-roofed  mud  houses  under 
the  low  hill  at  the  back  of  the  tents,  other  women 
were  crossing  the  plain  toward  the  well,  their  terra- 
cotta water-jars  poised  easily  on  their  heads,  cast- 
ing long  shadows  on  the  sun-baked  ground  as  they 
came. 

Presently,  in  the  distance,  from  the  direction  of 
the  sunlit  hills  opposite  a  little  group  of  men  came 
into  sight.  Far  off,  the  mustard-coloured  jackets 
and  the  red  turbans  of  the  orderlies  made  vivid 
splashes  of  colour  on  the  dull  plain.  As  they  came 
nearer,  the  guns  slung  across  their  shoulders,  the 
cases  of  mathematical  instruments,  the  hammers, 
and  other  heavy  baggage  they  carried  for  the 
sahib,  became  visible.  A  little  in  front,  at  walking 
pace,  rode  the  sahib  himself,  making  notes  as  he 
came  in  a  book  he  held  before  him.  The  girl  at 
the  tent  entrance  watched  the  advance  of  the  little 
company  indifferently,  it  seemed;  except  for  a 
slight  tightening  of  the  muscles  about  her  mouth, 
her  face  remained  unchanged.  While  he  was  still 
some  little  distance  away,  the  man  with  the  note- 
book raised  his  head  and  smiled  awkwardly  as  he 


1 62  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

saw  her  standing  there.  Awkwardness,  perhaps, 
best  describes  the  whole  man.  He  was  badly  put 
together,  loose-jointed,  ungainly.  The  fact  that  he 
was  tall  profited  him  nothing,  for  it  merely  em- 
phasised the  extreme  ungracefulness  of  his  figure. 
His  long  pale  face  was  made  paler  by  a  shock  of 
coarse,  tow-coloured  hair;  his  eyes,  even,  looked 
colourless,  though  they  were  certainly  the  least  un- 
interesting feature  of  his  face,  for  they  were  not  de- 
void of  expression.  He  had  a  way  of  slouching 
when  he  moved  that  singularly  intensified  the  gen- 
eral uncouthness  of  his  appearance.  "Are  you 
very  tired?  "  asked  his  wife,  gently,  when  he  had 
dismounted  close  to  the  tent.  The  question  would 
have  been  an  unnecessary  one  had  it  been  put  to 
her  instead  of  to  her  husband,  for  her  voice  had 
that  peculiar  flat  toneless  sound  for  which  extreme 
weariness  is  answerable. 

"  Well,  no,  my  dear,  not  very,"  he  replied,  drawl- 
ing out  the  words  with  an  exasperating  air  of  de- 
livering a  final  verdict,  after  deep  reflection  on  the 
subject. 

The  girl  glanced  once  more  at  the  fading  colours 
on  the  hills.  "  Come  in  and  rest,"  she  said,  mov- 
ing aside  a  little  to  let  him  pass. 

She  stood  lingering  a  moment  after  he  had  en- 
tered the  tent,  as  though  unwilling  to  leave  the 
outer  air ;  and  before  she  turned  to  follow  him  she 
drew  a  deep  breath,  and  her  hand  went  for  one 
swift  second  to  her  throat  as  though  she  felt 
stifled. 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  163 

Later  on  that  evening  she  sat  in  her  tent,  sewing 
by  the  light  of  the  lamp  that  stood  on  her  little 
table. 

Opposite  to  her,  her  husband  stretched  his  un- 
gainly length  in  a  deck-chair,  and  turned  over  a 
pile  of  official  notes.  Every  now  and  then  her  eyes 
wandered  from  the  gay  silks  of  the  table-cover 
she  was  embroidering  to  the  canvas  walls  which 
bounded  the  narrow  space  into  which  their  few 
household  goods  were  crowded.  Outside  there 
was  a  deep  hush.  The  silence  of  the  vast  empty 
plain  seemed  to  work  its  way  slowly,  steadily  in 
toward  the  little  patch  of  light  set  in  its  midst.  The 
girl  felt  it  in  every  nerve ;  it  was  as  though  some 
soft-footed,  noiseless,  shapeless  creature,  whose 
presence  she  only  dimly  divined,  was  approaching 
nearer — nearer.  The  heavy  outer  stillness  was  in 
some  way  made  more  terrifying  by  the  rustle  of  the 
papers  her  husband  was  reading,  by  the  creaking 
of  his  chair  as  he  moved,  and  by  the  little  fidgeting 
grunts  and  half-exclamations  which  from  time  to 
time  broke  from  him.  His  wife's  hand  shook 
at  every  unintelligible  mutter  from  him,  and 
the  slight  habitual  contraction  between  her  eyes 
deepened. 

All  at  once  she  threw  her  work  down  on  to  the 
table.  "  For  heaven's  sake— please,  John,  talk .' " 
she  cried.  Her  eyes,  for  the  moment's  space  in 
which  they  met  the  startled  ones  of  her  husband, 
had  a  wild,  hunted  look,  but  it  was  gone  almost 
before  his  slow  brain  had  time  to  note  that  it  had 


164  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

been   there — and    was  vaguely  disturbing.     She 
laughed  a  little  unsteadily. 

"  Did  I  startle  you?  I  'm  sorry.  I " — she 
laughed  again  —  "I  believe  I  'm  a  little  nervous. 
When  one  is  all  day  alone — "  She  paused  with- 
out finishing  the  sentence.  The  man's  face  changed 
suddenly.  A  wave  of  tenderness  swept  over  it,  and 
at  the  same  time  an  expression  of  half-incredulous 
delight  shone  in  his  pale  eyes. 

"Poor  little  girl,  are  you  really  lonely?"  he 
said.  Even  the  real  feeling  in  his  tone  failed  to  rob 
his  voice  of  its  peculiarly  irritating  grating  quality. 
He  rose  awkwardly,  and  moved  to  his  wife's  side. 

Involuntarily  she  shrank  a  little,  and  the  hand 
which  he  had  stretched  out  to  touch  her  hair  sank 
to  his  side.  She  recovered  herself  immediately,  and 
turned  her  face  up  to  his,  though  she  did  not  raise 
her  eyes ;  but  he  did  not  kiss  her.  Instead,  he 
stood  in  an  embarrassed  fashion  a  moment  by  her 
side,  and  then  went  back  to  his  seat. 

There  was  silence  again  for  some  time.  The 
man  lay  back  in  his  chair,  gazing  at  his  big,  clumsy 
shoes  as  though  he  hoped  for  some  inspiration  from 
that  quarter,  while  his  wife  worked  with  nervous 
haste. 

"  Don't  let  me  keep  you  from  reading,  John," 
she  said,  and  her  voice  had  regained  its  usual 
gentle  tone. 

"  No,  my  dear ;  I  'm  just  thinking  of  something 
to  say  to  you,  but  I  don't  seem—" 

She  smiled  a  little.     In  spite  of  herself,  her  lip 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  165 

curled  faintly.  "  Don't  worry  about  it ;  it  was 
stupid  of  me  to  expect  it.  I  mean—"  she  added, 
hastily,  immediately  repenting  the  sarcasm.  She 
glanced  furtively  at  him,  but  his  face  was  quite 
unmoved ;  evidently  he  had  not  noticed  it,  and  she 
smiled  faintly  again. 

"  O  Kathie,  I  knew  there  was  something  I  'd 
forgotten  to  tell  you,  my  dear;  there  's  a  man 
coming  down  here.  I  don't  know  whether — " 

She  looked  up  sharply.  "  A  man  coming  here? 
What  for?  "  she  interrupted,  breathlessly. 

"  Sent  to  help  me  about  this  oil-boring  business, 
my  dear." 

He  had  lighted  his  pipe,  and  was  smoking 
placidly,  taking  long  whiffs  between  his  words. 

"  Well?  "  impatiently  questioned  his  wife,  fixing 
her  bright  eyes  on  his  face. 

"Well— that  's  all,  my  dear." 

She  checked  an  exclamation.  "  But  don't  you 
know  anything  about  him — his  name?  where  he 
comes  from?  what  he  is  like?  "  She  was  leaning 
forward  against  the  table,  her  needle,  with  a  long 
end  of  yellow  silk  drawn  half-way  through  her 
work,  held  in  her  upraised  hand,  her  whole  attitude 
one  of  quivering  excitement  and  expectancy. 

The  man  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  deliber- 
ately, with  a  look  of  slow  wonder. 

"Why,  Kathie,  you  seem  quite  anxious.  I 
didn't  know  you  'd  be  so  interested,  my  dear. 
Well," — another  long  pull  at  his  pipe, — "his 
name  's  Brook — Brookfield,  I  think."  He  paused 


1 66  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

again.  "  This  pipe  don't  draw  well  a  bit ;  there  's 
something  wrong  with  it,  I  should  n't  wonder,"  he 
added,  taking  it  out  and  examining  the  bowl  as 
though  struck  with  the  brilliance  of  the  idea. 

The  woman  opposite  put  down  her  work  and 
clinched  her  hands  under  the  table. 

"  Go  on,  John,"  she  said,  presently,  in  a  tense, 
vibrating  voice ;  "his  name  is  Brookfield.  Well, 
where  does  he  come  from?  " 

"  Straight  from  home,  my  dear,  I  believe."  He 
fumbled  in  his  pocket,  and  after  some  time  extri- 
cated a  pencil,  with  which  he  began  to  poke  the 
tobacco  in  the  bowl  in  an  ineffectual  aimless  fash- 
ion, becoming  completely  engrossed  in  the  occu- 
pation apparently.  There  was  another  long  pause. 
The  woman  went  on  working,  or  feigning  to  work, 
for  her  hands  were  trembling  a  good  deal. 

After  some  moments  she  raised  her  head  again. 
"John,  will  you  mind  attending  to  me  one  mo- 
ment, and  answering  these  questions  as  quickly  as 
you  can?  "  The  emphasis  on  the  last  word  was  so 
faint  as  to  be  almost  as  imperceptible  as  the  touch 
of  exasperated  contempt  which  she  could  not  ab- 
solutely banish  from  her  tone. 

Her  husband,  looking  up,  met  her  clear  bright 
gaze,  and  reddened  like  a  school-boy. 

"  Whereabouts  'from  home '  does  he  come?  "  she 
asked,  in  a  studiedly  gentle  fashion. 

"  Well,  from  London,  I  think,"  he  replied,  almost 
briskly  for  him,  though  he  stammered  and  tripped 
over  the  words.  "  He 's  a  university  chap  ;  I  used  to 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  167 

hear  he  was  clever ;  I  don't  know  about  that,  I  'm 
sure;  he  used  to  chaff  me,  I  remember,  but — " 

"  Chaff  you  ?     You  have  met  him  then?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear," — he  was  fast  relapsing  into  his 
slow  drawl  again, — "  that  is,  I  went  to  school  with 
him ;  but  it  's  a  long  time  ago.  Brookfield — yes, 
that  must  be  his  name." 

She  waited  a  moment ;  then,  "  When  is  he  com- 
ing? "  she  inquired,  abruptly. 

"Let  me  see — to-day  's — " 

"  Monday;"  the  word  came  swiftly  between  her 
set  teeth. 

"Ah,  yes — Monday;  well,"  reflectively,  "next 
Monday,  my  dear." 

Mrs.  Drayton  rose,  and  began  to  pace  softly  the 
narrow  passage  between  the  table  and  the  tent 
wall,  her  hands  clasped  loosely  behind  her. 

"How  long  have  you  known  this?"  she  said, 
stopping  abruptly.  "  O  John,  you  need  n't  con- 
sider; it  's  quite  a  simple  question.  To-day? 
Yesterday?  " 

Her  foot  moved  restlessly  on  the  ground  as  she 
waited. 

"  I  think  it  was  the  day  before  yesterday,"  he 
replied. 

"Then  why,  in  heaven's  name,  did  n't  you  tell 
me  before?  "  she  broke  out,  fiercely. 

"  My  dear,  it  slipped  my  memory.  If  I  'd 
thought  you  would  be  interested — " 

"Interested!"  She  laughed  shortly.  "It  is 
rather  interesting  to  hear  that  after  six  months  of 


1 68  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

this" — she  made  a  quick  comprehensive  gesture 
with  her  hand — "  one  will  have  some  one  to  speak 
to — some  one.  It  is  the  hand  of  Providence ;  it 
comes  just  in  time  to  save  me  from — "  She 
checked  herself  abruptly. 

He  sat  staring  up  at  her  stupidly,  without  a 
word. 

"It  's  all  right,  John,"  she  said,  with  a  quick 
change  of  tone,  gathering  up  her  work  quietly  as 
she  spoke.  "  I  'm  not  mad — yet.  You — you 
must  get  used  to  these  little  outbreaks,"  she 
added,  after  a  moment,  smiling  faintly ;  "  and,  to 
do  me  justice,  I  don't  often  trouble  you  with  them, 
do  I  ?  I  'm  just  a  little  tired,  or  it  's  the  heat  or 
— something.  No — don't  touch  me!"  she  cried, 
shrinking  back ;  for  he  had  risen  slowly  and  was 
coming  toward  her. 

She  had  lost  command  over  her  voice,  and  the 
shrill  note  of  horror  in  it  was  unmistakable.  The 
man  heard  it,  and  shrank  in  his  turn. 

"  I  'm  so  sorry,  John,"  she  murmured,  raising 
her  great  bright  eyes  to  his  face.  They  had  not 
lost  their  goaded  expression,  though  they  were  full 
of  tears.  "  I  'm  awfully  sorry ;  but  I  'm  just  ner- 
vous and  stupid,  and  I  can't  bear  any  one  to  touch 
me  when  I  'm  nervous." 

"Here  's  Broomhurst,  my  dear!  I  made  a 
mistake  in  his  name  after  all,  I  find.  I  told  you 
Brook/hid^  I  believe,  did  n't  I?  Well,  it  is  n't 
Brookfield,  he  says ;  it  's  Broomhurst." 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  169 

Mrs.  Drayton  had  walked  some  little  distance 
across  the  plain  to  meet  and  welcome  the  expected 
guest.  She  stood  quietly  waiting  while  her  hus- 
band stammered  over  his  incoherent  sentences,  and 
then  put  out  her  hand. 

"  We  are  very  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said,  with  a 
quick  glance  at  the  new-comer's  face  as  she  spoke. 

As  they  walked  together  toward  the  tent,  after 
the  first  greetings,  she  felt  his  keen  eyes  upon  her 
before  he  turned  to  her  husband. 

"  I  'm  afraid  Mrs.  Drayton  finds  the  climate  try- 
ing? "  he  asked.  "  Perhaps  she  ought  not  to  have 
come  so  far  in  this  heat?  " 

"  Kathie  is  often  pale.  You  do  look  white  to- 
day, my  dear,"  he  observed,  turning  anxiously  to- 
ward his  wife. 

"  Do  I  ?  "  she  replied.  The  unsteadiness  of  her 
tone  was  hardly  appreciable,  but  it  was  not  lost  on 
Broomhurst's  quick  ears.  "  Oh,  I  don't  think  so. 
I  feel  very  well." 

"  I  '11  come  and  see  if  they  Ve  fixed  you  up  all 
right,"  said  Drayton,  following  his  companion  to- 
ward the  new  tent  that  had  been  pitched  at  some 
little  distance  from  the  large  one. 

"  We  shall  see  you  at  dinner  then?  "  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton observed  in  reply  to  Broomhurst's  smile  as  they 
parted. 

She  entered  the  tent  slowly,  and,  moving  up  to 
the  table  already  laid  for  dinner,  began  to  rear- 
range the  things  upon  it  in  a  purposeless,  mechani- 
cal fashion. 


i  yo  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

After  a  moment  she  sank  down  upon  a  seat  op- 
posite the  open  entrance,  and  put  her  hand  to  her 
head. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  me?"  she  thought, 
wearily.  "All  the  week  I  've  been  looking  for- 
ward to  seeing  this  man — any  man,  any  one  to  take 
off  the  edge  of  this."  She  shuddered.  Even  in 
thought  she  hesitated  to  analyse  the  feeling  that 
possessed  her.  "Well,  he  's  here,  and  I  think  I 
feel  worse"  Her  eyes  travelled  toward  the  hills 
she  had  been  used  to  watch  at  this  hour,  and  rested 
on  them  with  a  vague,  unseeing  gaze. 

"Tired,  Kathie?  A  penny  for  your  thoughts, 
my  dear,"  said  her  husband,  coming  in  presently 
to  find  her  still  sitting  there. 

"  I  'm  thinking  what  a  curious  world  this  is,  and 
what  an  ironical  vein  of  humour  the  gods  who  look 
after  it  must  possess,"  she  replied,  with  a  mirthless 
laugh,  rising  as  she  spoke. 

John  looked  puzzled. 

"  Funny  my  having  known  Broomhurst  before, 
you  mean?  "  he  said,  doubtfully. 

"  I  was  fishing  down  at  Lynmouth  this  time  last 
year,"  Broomhurst  said  at  dinner.  "You  know 
Lynmouth,  Mrs.  Drayton?  Do  you  never  imagine 
you  hear  the  gurgling  of  the  stream?  I  am  tan- 
talised already  by  the  sound  of  it  rushing  through 
the  beautiful  green  gloom  of  those  woods — are  n't 
they  lovely?  And  /  have  n't  been  in  this  burnt-up 
spot  as  many  hours  as  you  Ve  had  months  of  it." 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.       171 

She  smiled  a  little. 

"You  must  learn  to  possess  your  soul  in  pa- 
tience," she  said,  and  glanced  inconsequently 
from  Broomhurst  to  her  husband,  and  then 
dropped  her  eyes  and  was  silent  a  moment. 

John  was  obviously,  and  a  little  audibly,  enjoy- 
ing his  dinner.  He  sat  with  his  chair  pushed  close 
to  the  table,  and  his  elbows  awkwardly  raised, 
swallowing  his  soup  in  gulps.  He  grasped  his 
spoon  tightly  in  his  bony  hand,  so  that  its  swollen 
joints  stood  out  larger  and  uglier  than  ever,  his 
wife  thought. 

Her  eyes  wandered  to  Broomhurst's  hands. 
They  were  well  shaped,  and,  though  not  small, 
there  was  a  look  of  refinement  about  them;  he 
had  a  way  of  touching  things  delicately,  a  little 
lingeringly,  she  noticed.  There  was  an  air  of 
distinction  about  his  clear-cut,  clean-shaven  face, 
possibly  intensified  by  contrast  with  Drayton's 
blurred  features;  and  it  was,  perhaps,  also  by 
contrast  with  the  gray  cuffs  that  showed  beneath 
John's  ill-cut  drab  suit  that  the  linen  Broomhurst 
wore  seemed  to  her  particularly  spotless. 

Broomhurst's  thoughts,  for  his  part,  were  a  good 
deal  occupied  with  his  hostess. 

She  was  pretty,  he  thought,  or  perhaps  it  was 
that,  with  the  wide,  dry,  lonely  plain  as  a  setting, 
her  fragile  delicacy  of  appearance  was  invested 
with  a  certain  flower-like  charm. 

"  The  silence  here  seems  rather  strange,  rather 
appalling  at  first,  when  one  is  fresh  from  a  town," 


1 72  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

he  pursued,  after  a  moment's  pause ;  "  but  I  sup- 
pose you  're  used  to  it,  eh,  Drayton?  How  doyou 
find  life  here,  Mrs.  Drayton?  "  he  asked,  a  little 
curiously,  turning  to  her  as  he  spoke. 

She  hesitated  a  second.  "  Oh,  much  the  same 
as  I  should  find  it  anywhere  else,  I  expect,"  she 
replied ;  "  after  all,  one  carries  the  possibilities  of 
a  happy  life  about  with  one ;  don't  you  think  so? 
The  Garden  of  Eden  would  n't  necessarily  make 
my  life  any  happier,  or  less  happy,  than  a  howling 
wilderness  like  this.  It  depends  on  one's  self  en- 
tirely." 

"  Given  the  right  Adam  and  Eve,  the  desert 
blossoms  like  the  rose,  in  fact,"  Broomhurst  an- 
swered, lightly,  with  a  smiling  glance  inclusive  of 
husband  and  wife ;  "  you  two  don't  feel  as  though 
you  'd  been  driven  out  of  Paradise,  evidently." 

Drayton  raised  his  eyes  from  his  plate  with  a 
smile  of  total  incomprehension. 

"Great  heavens!  what  an  Adam  to  select!" 
thought  Broomhurst,  involuntarily,  as  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton rose  rather  suddenly  from  the  table. 

"  I  '11  come  and  help  with  that  packing-case," 
John  said,  rising,  in  his  turn,  lumberingly  from  his 
place  ;  "  then  we  can  have  a  smoke — eh?  Kathie 
don't  mind,  if  we  sit  near  the  entrance." 

The  two  men  went  out  together,  Broomhurst 
holding  the  lantern,  for  the  moon  had  not  yet 
risen.  Mrs.  Drayton  followed  them  to  the  door- 
way, and,  pushing  the  looped-up  hanging  farther 
aside,  stepped  out  into  the  cool  darkness. 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  173 

Her  heart  was  beating  quickly,  and  there  was  a 
great  lump  in  her  throat  that  frightened  her  as 
though  she  were  choking. 

"And  I  am  his  wife — I  belong  to  him!"  she 
cried,  almost  aloud. 

She  pressed  both  her  hands  tightly  against  her 
breast,  and  set  her  teeth,  fighting  to  keep  down 
the  rising  flood  that  threatened  to  sweep  away  her 
composure.  "Oh,  what  a  fool  I  am!  What  an 
hysterical  fool  of  a  woman  I  am ! "  she  whispered 
below  her  breath.  She  began  to  walk  slowly  up 
and  down  outside  the  tent,  in  the  space  illumined 
by  the  lamplight,  as  though  striving  to  make  her 
outwardly  quiet  movements  react  upon  the  inward 
tumult.  In  a  little  while  she  had  conquered ;  she 
quietly  entered  the  tent,  drew  a  low  chair  to  the 
entrance,  and  took  up  a  book,  just  as  footsteps  be- 
came audible.  A  moment  afterward  Broomhurst 
emerged  from  the  darkness  into  the  circle  of  light 
outside,  and  Mrs.  Drayton  raised  her  eyes  from  the 
pages  she  was  turning  to  greet  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Are  your  things  all  right?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  more  or  less,  thank  you.  I  was  a 
little  concerned  about  a  case  of  books,,  but  it  is  n't 
much  damaged  fortunately.  Perhaps  I  've  some 
you  would  care  to  look  at?  " 

"  The  books  will  be  a  godsend,"  she  returned, 
with  a  sudden  brightening  of  the  eyes;  "I  was 
getting  desperate — for  books." 

"  What  are  you  reading  now?  "  he  asked,  glanc- 
ing at  the  volume  that  lay  in  her  lap. 


174  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  It  's  a  Browning.  I  carry  it  about  a  good 
deal.  I  think  I  like  to  have  it  with  me,  but  I 
don't  seem  to  read  it  much." 

"  Are  you  waiting  for  a  suitable  optimistic  mo- 
ment? "  Broomhurst  inquired,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  now  you  mention  it,  I  think  that  must  be 
why  I  am  waiting,"  she  replied,  slowly. 

"And  it  does  n't  come — even  in  the  Garden  of 
Eden?  Surely  the  serpent,  pessimism,  has  n't  been 
insolent  enough  to  draw  you  into  conversation  with 
him?  "  he  said,  lightly. 

"  There  has  been  no  one  to  converse  with  at  all 
— when  John  is  away,  I  mean.  I  think  I  should 
have  liked  a  little  chat  with  the  serpent  immensely 
by  way  of  a  change,"  she  replied,  in  the  same 
tone. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  Broomhurst  said,  with  sudden  seri- 
ousness; "it  must  be  unbearably  dull  for  you 
alone  here,  with  Drayton  away  all  day." 

Mrs.  Drayton's  hand  shook  a  little  as  she  flut- 
tered a  page  of  her  open  book. 

"  I  should  think  it  quite  natural  you  would  be 
irritated  beyond  endurance  to  hear  that  all 's  right 
with  the  world,  for  instance,  when  you  were  sigh- 
ing for  the  long  day  to  pass,"  he  continued. 

"  I  don't  mind  the  day  so  much ;  it 's  the  even- 
ings." She  abruptly  checked  the  swift  words,  and 
flushed  painfully.  "  I  mean — I  Ve  grown  stupidly 
nervous,  I  think — even  when  John  is  here.  Oh, 
you  have  no  idea  of  the  awful  silence  of  this  place 
at  night,"  she  added,  rising  hurriedly  from  her  low 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  175 

seat,  and  moving  closer  to  the  doorway.  "  It  is 
so  close,  is  n't  it  ?  "  she  said,  almost  apologetically. 
There  was  silence  for  quite  a  minute. 

Broomhurst's  quick  eyes  noted  the  silent  mo- 
mentary clinching  of  the  hands  that  hung  at  her 
side,  as  she  stood  leaning  against  the  support  at  the 
entrance. 

"  But  how  stupid  of  me  to  give  you  such  a  bad 
impression  of  the  camp— the  first  evening,  too!" 
Mrs.  Drayton  exclaimed,  presently ;  and  her  com- 
panion mentally  commended  the  admirable  com- 
posure of  her  voice. 

"  Probably  you  will  never  notice  that  it  is  lonely 
at  all,"  she  continued ;  "  John  likes  it  here.  He  is 
immensely  interested  in  his  work,  you  know.  I 
hope  you  are  too.  If  you  are  interested  it  is  all 
quite  right.  I  think  the  climate  tries  me  a  little. 
I  never  used  to  be  stupid — and  nervous.  Ah, 
here  's  John ;  he  's  been  round  to  the  kitchen  tent, 
I  suppose." 

"  Been  looking  after  that  fellow  cleanin'  my 
gun,  my  dear,"  John  explained,  shambling  toward 
the  deck-chair. 

Later  Broomhurst  stood  at  his  own  tent  door. 
He  looked  up  at  the  star-sown  sky,  and  the  heavy 
silence  seemed  to  press  upon  him  like  an  actual, 
physical  burden. 

He  took  his  cigar  from  between  his  lips  pres- 
ently, and  looked  at  the  glowing  end  reflectively 
before  throwing  it  away. 

"  Considering  that  she  has  been  alone  with  him 


176  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

here  for  six  months,  she  has  herself  very  well  in 
hand — very  well  in  hand,"  he  repeated. 

It  was  Sunday  morning.  John  Drayton  sat 
just  inside  the  tent,  presumably  enjoying  his  pipe 
before  the  heat  of  the  day.  His  eyes  furtively 
followed  his  wife  as  she  moved  about  near  him, 
sometimes  passing  close  to  his  chair  in  search  of 
something  she  had  mislaid.  There  was  colour  in 
her  cheeks ;  her  eyes,  though  preoccupied,  were 
bright ;  there  was  a  lightness  and  buoyancy  in  her 
step  which  she  set  to  a  little  dancing  air  she  was 
humming  under  her  breath. 

After  a  moment  or  two  the  song  ceased ;  she 
began  to  move  slowly,  sedately ;  and,  as  if  chilled 
by  a  raw  breath  of  air,  the  light  faded  from  her  eyes, 
which  she  presently  turned  toward  her  husband. 

"Why  do  you  look  at  me?  "she  asked,  sud- 
denly. 

"  I  don't  know,  my  dear,"  he  began,  slowly  and 
laboriously,  as  was  his  wont.  "  I  was  thinkin'  how 
nice  you  looked — jest  now — much  better,  you 
know ;  but  somehow," — he  was  taking  long  whiffs 
at  his  pipe,  as  usual,  between  each  word,  while 
she  stood  patiently  waiting  for  him  to  finish, — 
"somehow,  you  alter  so,  my  dear — you  're  quite 
pale  again,  all  of  a  minute." 

She  stood  listening  to  him,  noticing  against  her 
will  the  more  than  suspicion  of  cockney  accent 
and  the  thick  drawl  with  which  the  words  were 
uttered. 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  177 

His  eyes  sought  her  face  piteously.  She  no- 
ticed that  too,  and  stood  before  him  torn  by  con- 
flicting emotions,  pity  and  disgust  struggling  in  a 
hand-to-hand  fight  within  her. 

"  Mr.  Broomhurst  and  I  are  going  down  by  the 
well  to  sit ;  it  's  cooler  there.  Won't  you  come?  " 
she  said  at  last,  gently. 

He  did  not  reply  for  a  moment ;  then  he  turned 
his  head  aside,  sharply  for  him. 

"  No,  my  dear,  thank  you ;  I  'm  comfortable 
enough  here,"  he  returned,  huskily. 

She  stood  over  him,  hesitating  a  second ;  then 
moved  abruptly  to  the  table,  from  which  she  took 
a  book. 

He  had  risen  from  his  seat  by  the  time  she 
turned  to  go  out,  and  he  intercepted  her  timor- 
ously. 

"  Kathie,  give  me  a  kiss  before  you  go,"  he 
whispered,  hoarsely.  "I  —  I  don't  often  bother 
you." 

She  drew  her  breath  in  deeply  as  he  put  his 
arms  clumsily  about  her ;  but  she  stood  still,  and 
he  kissed  her  on  the  forehead,  and  touched  the 
little  wavy  curls  that  strayed  across  it  gently  with 
his  big,  trembling  fingers. 

When  he  released  her,  she  moved  at  once  im- 
petuously to  the  open  doorway.  On  the  thresh- 
old she  hesitated,  paused  a  moment  irresolutely, 
and  then  turned  back. 

"Shall  I— does  your  pipe  want  filling,  John?  " 
she  asked,  softly. 


178  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

"  No,  thank  you,  my  dear." 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  stay,  read  to  you,  or 
anything?" 

He  looked  up  at  her  wistfully.  "  N-no,  thank 
you ;  I  'm  not  much  of  a  reader,  you  know,  my 
dear — somehow." 

She  hated  herself  for  knowing  that  there  would 
be  a  "  my  dear,"  probably  a  "  somehow,"  in  his  re- 
ply, and  despised  herself  for  the  sense  of  irritated 
impatience  she  felt  by  anticipation,  even  before 
the  words  were  uttered. 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitating  silence,  broken 
by  the  sound  of  quick,  firm  footsteps  without. 
Broomhurst  paused  at  the  entrance,  and  looked 
into  the  tent. 

"  Are  n't  you  coming,  Drayton  ?  "  he  asked, 
looking  first  at  Drayton's  wife  and  then  swiftly 
putting  in  his  name  with  a  scarcely  perceptible 
pause.  "Too  lazy?  But  you,  Mrs.  Drayton?" 

"Yes,  I  'm  coming,"  she  said. 

They  left  the  tent  together,  and  walked  some 
few  steps  in  silence. 

Broomhurst  shot  a  quick  glance  at  his  com- 
panion's face. 

"  Anything  wrong?  "  he  asked,  presently. 

Though  the  words  were  ordinary  enough,  the 
voice  in  which  they  were  spoken  was  in  some  subtle 
fashion  a  different  voice  from  that  in  which  he  had 
talked  to  her  nearly  two  months  ago,  though  it 
would  have  required  a  keen  sense  of  nice  shades 
in  sound  to  have  detected  the  change. 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  179 

Mrs.  Drayton's  sense  of  niceties  in  sound  was 
particularly  keen,  but  she  answered  quietly,  "  Noth- 
ing, thank  you." 

They  did  not  speak  again  till  the  trees  round  the 
stone  well  were  reached. 

Broomhurst  arranged  their  seats  comfortably 
beside  it. 

"  Are  we  going  to  read  or  talk?  "  he  asked,  look- 
ing up  at  her  from  his  lower  place. 

"  Well,  we  generally  talk  most  when  we  arrange 
to  read ;  so  shall  we  agree  to  talk  to-day  for  a 
change,  by  way  of  getting  some  reading  done?  " 
she  rejoined,  smiling.  "  You  begin." 

Broomhurst  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  avail  himself 
of  the  permission;  he  was  apparently  engrossed 
in  watching  the  flecks  of  sunshine  on  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton's  white  dress.  The  whirring  of  insects,  and 
the  creaking  of  a  Persian  wheel  somewhere  in  the 
neighbourhood,  filtered  through  the  hot  silence. 

Mrs.  Drayton  laughed  after  a  few  minutes ;  there 
was  a  touch  of  embarrassment  in  the  sound. 

"  The  new  plan  does  n't  answer.  Suppose  you 
read,  as  usual,  and  let  me  interrupt,  also  as  usual, 
after  the  first  two  lines." 

He  opened  the  book  obediently,  but  turned  the 
pages  at  random. 

She  watched  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  bent 
a  little  forward  toward  him. 

"  It  is  my  turn  now,"  she  said,  suddenly ;  "  is 
anything  wrong?  " 

He  raised  his  head,  and  their  eyes  met.    There 


180  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

was  a  pause.  "  I  will  be  more  honest  than  you," 
he  returned :  "  yes,  there  is." 

"What?" 

"  I  've  had  orders  to  move  on." 

She  drew  back,  and  her  lips  whitened,  though 
she  kept  them  steady. 

"  When  do  you  go?  " 

"  On  Wednesday." 

There  was  silence  again ;  the  man  still  kept  his 
eyes  on  her  face. 

The  whirring  of  the  insects  and  the  creaking  of 
the  wheel  had  suddenly  grown  so  strangely  loud 
and  insistent  that  it  was  in  a  half-dazed  fashion  she 
at  length  heard  her  name — "Kathleen! " 

"  Kathleen!"  he  whispered  again,  hoarsely. 

She  looked  him  full  in  the  face,  and  once  more 
their  eyes  met  in  a  long,  grave  gaze. 

The  man's  face  flushed,  and  he  half  rose  from 
his  seat  with  an  impetuous  movement ;  but  Kath- 
leen stopped  him  with  a  glance. 

"Will  you  go  and  fetch  my  work?  I  left  it  in 
the  tent,"  she  said,  speaking  very  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly; "and  then  will  you  go  on  reading?  I 
will  find  the  place  while  you  are  gone." 

She  took  the  book  from  his  hand,  and  he  rose 
and  stood  before  her. 

There  was  a  mute  appeal  in  his  silence,  and  she 
raised  her  head  slowly. 

Her  face  was  white  to  the  lips,  but  she  looked 
at  him  unflinchingly  ;  and  without  a  word  he  turned 
and  left  her. 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  181 

Mrs.  Drayton  was  resting  in  the  tent  on  Tues- 
day afternoon.  With  the  help  of  cushions  and 
some  low  chairs,  she  had  improvised  a  couch,  on 
which  she  lay  quietly  with  her  eyes  closed.  There 
was  a  tenseness,  however,  in  her  attitude  which 
indicated  that  sleep  was  far  from  her. 

Her  features  seemed  to  have  sharpened  during 
the  last  few  days,  and  there  were  hollows  in  her: 
cheeks.  She  had  been  very  still  for  a  long  time, 
but  all  at  once,  with  a  sudden  movement,  she 
turned  her  head  and  buried  her  face  in  the  cushions 
with  a  groan.  Slipping  from  her  place,  she  fell  on 
her  knees  beside  the  couch,  and  put  both  hands 
before  her  mouth  to  force  back  the  cry  that  she 
felt  struggling  to  her  lips. 

For  some  moments  the  wild  effort  she  was  mak- 
ing for  outward  calm,  which  even  when  she  was 
alone  was  her  first  instinct,  strained  every  nerve 
and  blotted  out  sight  and  hearing,  and  it  was  not 
till  the  sound  was  very  near  that  she  was  conscious 
of  the  ring  of  horse's  hoofs  on  the  plain. 

She  raised  her  head  sharply,  with  a  thrill  of  fear, 
still  kneeling,  and  listened. 

There  was  no  mistake.  The  horseman  was  rid- 
ing in  hot  haste,  for  the  thud  of  the  hoofs  followed 
one  another  swiftly. 

As  Mrs.  Drayton  listened  her  white  face  grew 
whiter,  and  she  began  to  tremble.  Putting  out 
shaking  hands,  she  raised  herself  by  the  arms  of 
the  folding-chair  and  stood  upright. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  thunder  of  the  ap- 


1 82  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

preaching  sound,  mingled  with  startled  exclama- 
tions and  the  noise  of  trampling  feet  from  the 
direction  of  the  kitchen  tent. 

Slowly,  mechanically  almost,  she  dragged  herself 
to  the  entrance,  and  stood  clinging  to  the  canvas 
there.  By  the  time  she  had  reached  it  Broomhurst 
had  flung  himself  from  the  saddle,  and  had  thrown 
the  reins  to  one  of  the  men. 

Mrs.  Drayton  stared  at  him  with  wide,  bright 
eyes  as  he  hastened  toward  her. 

"  I  thought  you — you  are  not — "  she  began,  and 
then  her  teeth  began  to  chatter.  "  I  am  so  cold! " 
she  said,  in  a  little,  weak  voice. 

Broomhurst  took  her  hand  and  led  her  over  the 
threshold  back  into  the  tent. 

"  Don't  be  so  frightened,"  he  implored ;  "  I  came 
to  tell  you  first.  I  thought  it  would  n't  frighten 
you  so  much  as —  Your — Drayton  is — very  ill. 
They  are  bringing  him.  I—" 

He  paused.  She  gazed  at  him  a  moment  with 
parted  lips;  then  she  broke  into  a  horrible,  dis- 
cordant laugh,  and  stood  clinging  to  the  back  of 
a  chair. 

Broomhurst  started  back. 

"  Do  you  understand  what  I  mean?  "  he  whis- 
pered. '  Kathleen,  for  God's  sake— don't—  he  is 
dead." 

He  looked  over  his  shoulder  as  he  spoke,  her 
shrill  laughter  ringing  in  his  ears.  The  white  glare 
and  dazzle  of  the  plain  stretched  before  him,  framed 
by  the  entrance  to  the  tent ;  far  off,  against  the 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  183 

horizon,  there  were  moving  black  specks,  which 
he  knew  to  be  the  returning  servants  with  their 
still  burden. 

They  were  bringing  John  Drayton  home. 

One  afternoon,  some  months  later,  Broomhurst 
climbed  the  steep  lane  leading  to  the  cliffs  of  a 
little  English  village  by  the  sea.  He  had  already 
been  to  the  inn,  and  had  been  shown  by  the  pro- 
prietress the  house  where  Mrs.  Drayton  lodged. 

"  The  lady  was  out,  but  the  gentleman  would 
likely  find  her  if  he  went  to  the  cliffs — down  by 
the  bay,  or  thereabouts,"  her  landlady  explained ; 
and,  obeying  her  directions,  Broomhurst  presently 
emerged  from  the  shady  woodland  path  on  to  the 
hillside  overhanging  the  sea. 

He  glanced  eagerly  round  him,  and  then,  with 
a  sudden  quickening  of  the  heart,  walked  on  over 
the  springy  heather  to  where  she  sat.  She  turned 
when  the  rustling  his  footsteps  made  through  the 
bracken  was  near  enough  to  arrest  her  attention, 
and  looked  up  at  him  as  he  came.  Then  she  rose 
slowly  and  stood  waiting  for  him.  He  came  up 
to  her  without  a  word,  and  seized  both  her  hands, 
devouring  her  face  with  his  eyes.  Something  he 
saw  there  repelled  him.  Slowly  he  let  her  hands 
fall,  still  looking  at  her  silently.  "You  are  not 
glad  to  see  me,  and  I  have  counted  the  hours," 
he  said,  at  last,  in  a  dull,  toneless  voice. 

Her  lips  quivered.  "  Don't  be  angry  with  me 
—  I  can't  help  it— I  'm  not  glad  or  sorry  for  any- 


184  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

thing  now,"  she  answered ;  and  her  voice  matched 
his  for  grayness. 

They  sat  down  together  on  a  long  flat  stone 
half  embedded  in  a  wiry  clump  of  whortleberries. 
Behind  them  the  lonely  hillsides  rose,  brilliant  with 
yellow  bracken  and  the  purple  of  heather.  Before 
them  stretched  the  wide  sea.  It  was  a  soft,  gray 
day.  Streaks  of  pale  sunlight  trembled  at  moments 
far  out  on  the  water.  The  tide  was  rising  in  the 
little  bay  above  which  they  sat,  and  Broomhurst 
watched  the  lazy  foam-edged  waves  slipping  over 
the  uncovered  rocks  toward  the  shore,  then  sliding 
back  as  though  for  very  weariness  they  despaired 
of  reaching  it.  The  muffled,  pulsing  sound  of  the 
sea  filled  the  silence.  Broomhurst  thought  suddenly 
of  hot  Eastern  sunshine,  of  the  whir  of  insect 
wings  on  the  still  air,  and  the  creaking  of  a  wheel 
in  the  distance.  He  turned  and  looked  at  his 
companion. 

"  I  have  come  thousands  of  miles  to  see  you," 
he  said ;  "  are  n't  you  going  to  speak  to  me  now 
I  am  here?" 

"  Why  did  you  come?  I  told  you  not  to  come," 
she  answered,  falteringly.  "1 — "  she  paused. 

"  And  I  replied  that  I  should  follow  you — if  you 
remember,"  he  answered,  still  quietly.  "  I  came 
because  I  would  not  listen  to  what  you  said  then, 
at  that  awful  time.  You  did  n't  know  yourself 
what  you  said.  No  wonder!  I  have  given  you 
some  months,  and  now  I  have  come." 

There  was  silence  between  them.     Broomhurst 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  185 

saw  that  she  was  crying ;  her  tears  fell  fast  on  to 
her  hands,  that  were  clasped  in  her  lap.  Her  face, 
he  noticed,  was  thin  and  drawn. 

Very  gently  he  put  his  arm  round  her  shoulder 
and  drew  her  nearer  to  him.  She  made  no  resis- 
tance ;  it  seemed  that  she  did  not  notice  the  move- 
ment ;  and  his  arm  dropped  at  his  side. 

"  You  asked  me  why  I  had  come.  You  think 
it  possible  that  three  months  can  change  one  very 
thoroughly,  then  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  cold  voice. 

"  I  not  only  think  it  possible ;  I  have  proved  it," 
she  replied,  wearily. 

He  turned  round  and  faced  her. 

"You  did  love  me,  Kathleen!"  he  asserted. 
"  You  never  said  so  in  words,  but  I  know  it,"  he 
added,  fiercely. 

"  Yes,  I  did." 

"And — you  mean  that  you  don't  now? " 

Her  voice  was  very  tired.  "  Yes ;  I  can't  help 
it,"  she  answered ;  "  it  has  gone— utterly." 

The  gray  sea  slowly  lapped  the  rocks.  Overhead 
the  sharp  scream  of  a  gull  cut  through  the  stillness. 
It  was  broken  again,  a  moment  afterward,  by  a 
short,  hard  laugh  from  the  man. 

"Don:t!"  she  whispered,  and  laid  a  hand 
swiftly  on  his  arm.  "  Do  you  think  it  is  n't  worse 
for  me?  I  wish  to  God  I  did  love  you!"  she 
cried,  passionately.  "  Perhaps  it  would  make 
me  forget  that,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  I  am 
a  murderess." 

Broomhurst  met  her  wide,  despairing  eyes  with 


1 86  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

an  amazement  which  yielded  to  sudden  pitying 
comprehension. 

"So  that  is  it,  my  darling?  You  are  worrying 
about  that?  You  who  were  as  loyal  as — " 

She  stopped  him  with  a  frantic  gesture. 

"Don't!  don'ff"  she  wailed.  "If  you  only 
knew !  Let  me  try  to  tell  you — will  you  ?  "  she  urged, 
pitifully.  "  It  may  be  better  if  I  tell  some  one— 
if  I  don't  keep  it  all  to  myself,  and  think,  and 
think." 

She  clasped  her  hands  tight,  with  the  old  gesture 
he  remembered  when  she  was  struggling  for  self- 
control,  and  waited  a  moment. 

Presently  she  began  to  speak  in  a  low,  hurried 
tone :  "  It  began  before  you  came.  I  know  now 
what  the  feeling  was  that  I  was  afraid  to  acknow- 
ledge to  myself.  I  used  to  try  and  smother  it ;  I 
used  to  repeat  things  to  myself  all  day — poems, 
stupid  rhymes — anything  to  keep  my  thoughts 
quite  underneath — but  I — hated  John  before  you 
came!  We  had  been  married  nearly  a  year  then. 
I  never  loved  him.  Of  course  you  are  going  to 
say,  'Why  did  you  marry  him?'"  She  looked 
drearily  over  the  placid  sea.  "  Why  did  I  marry 
him?  I  don't  know ;  for  the  reason  that  hundreds 
of  ignorant,  inexperienced  girls  marry,  I  suppose. 
My  home  was  n't  a  happy  one.  I  was  miserable, 
and  oh — restless.  I  wonder  if  men  know  what  it 
feels  like  to  be  restless?  Sometimes  I  think  they 
can't  even  guess.  John  wanted  me  very  badly ; 
nobody  wanted  me  at  home  particularly.  There 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  187 

did  n't  seem  to  be  any  point  in  my  life.  Do  you 
understand?  .  .  .  Of  course,  being  alone  with  him 
in  that  little  camp  in  that  silent  plain  " — she  shud- 
dered—  "made  things  worse.  My  nerves  went 
all  to  pieces.  Everything  he  said,  his  voice,  his 
accent,  his  walk,  the  way  he  ate,  irritated  me  so 
that  I  longed  to  rush  out  sometimes  and  shriek — 
and  go  mad.  Does  it  sound  ridiculous  to  you  to 
be  driven  mad  by  such  trifles?  I  only  know  I 
used  to  get  up  from  the  table  sometimes  and  walk 
up  and  down  outside,  with  both  hands  over  my 
mouth  to  keep  myself  quiet.  And  all  the  time  I 
hated  myself — how  I  hated  myself!  I  never  had 
a  word  from  him  that  was  n't  gentle  and  tender. 
I  believe  he  loved  the  ground  I  walked  on.  Oh, 
it  is  awfttl  to  be  loved  like  that  when  you — "  She 
drew  in  her  breath  with  a  sob.  "I — I — it  made 
me  sick  for  him  to  come  near  me — to  touch  me." 
She  stopped  a  moment. 

Broomhurst  gently  laid  his  hand  on  her  quiver- 
ing one.  "  Poor  little  girl ! "  he  murmured. 

"Thenjv0#  came,"  she  said,  "and  before  long 
I  had  another  feeling  to  fight  against.  At  first  I 
thought  it  could  n't  be  true  that  I  loved  you — it 
would  die  down.  I  think  I  was  frightened  at  the 
feeling ;  I  did  n't  know  it  hurt  so  to  love  any  one." 

Broomhurst  stirred  a  little.  "  Go  on,"  he  said, 
tersely. 

"  But  it  did  n't  die,"  she  continued,  in  a  trembling 
whisper,  "and  the  other  awful  feeling  grew  stronger 
and  stronger— hatred ;  no,  that  is  not  the  word — 


1 88  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

loathing  for — for — John.  I  fought  against  it. 
Yes,"  she  cried,  feverishly,  clasping  and  unclasping 
her  hands ;  "  Heaven  knows  I  fought  it  with  all 
my  strength,  and  reasoned  with  myself,  and — oh, 
I  did  everything,  but — "  Her  quick-falling  tears 
made  speech  difficult. 

"Kathleen!"  Broomhurst  urged,  desperately, 
"  you  could  n't  help  it,  you  poor  child.  You  say 
yourself  you  struggled  against  your  feelings.  You 
were  always  gentle ;  perhaps  he  did  n't  know." 

"But  he  did — he  did"  she  wailed;  "it  is  just 
that.  I  hurt  him  a  hundred  times  a  day ;  he  never 
said  so,  but  I  knew  it ;  and  yet  I  could  n't  be  kind 
to  him, — except  in  words, — and  he  understood. 
And  after  you  came  it  was  worse  in  one  way,  for 
he  knew — \felt  he  knew — that  I  loved  you.  His 
eyes  used  to  follow  me  like  a  dog's,  and  I  was 
stabbed  with  remorse,  and  I  tried  to  be  good  to 
him,  but  I  could  n't." 

"  But — he  did  n't  suspect — he  trusted  you," 
began  Broomhurst.  "  He  had  every  reason.  No 
woman  was  ever  so  loyal,  so — " 

"  Hush! "  she  almost  screamed.  "  Loyal!  it  was 
the  least  I  could  do — to  stop  you,  I  mean — when 
you —  After  all,  I  knew  it  without  your  telling 
me.  I  had  deliberately  married  him  without  loving 
him.  It  was  my  own  fault.  I  felt  it.  Even  if  I 
could  n't  prevent  his  knowing  that  I  hated  him,  I 
could  prevent  that.  It  was  my  punishment.  I 
deserved  it  for  daring  to  marry  without  love.  But 
I  did  n't  spare  John  one  pang  after  all,"  she  added, 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  189 

bitterly.  "He  knew  what  I  felt  toward  him;  I 
don't  think  he  cared  about  anything  else.  You 
say  I  must  n't  reproach  myself?  When  I  went 
back  to  the  tent  that  morning — when  you — when 
I  stopped  you  from  saying  you  loved  me,  he  was 
sitting  at  the  table  with  his  head  buried  in  his 
hands;  he  was  crying — bitterly.  I  saw  him,— it 
is  terrible  to  see  a  man  cry, — and  I  stole  away 
gently,  but  he  saw  me.  I  was  torn  to  pieces,  but 
I  could  n't  go  to  him.  I  knew  he  would  kiss  me, 
and  I  shuddered  to  think  of  it.  It  seemed  more 
than  ever  not  to  be  borne  that  he  should  do  that 
— when  I  knew  you  loved  me." 

"  Kathleen,"  cried  her  lover,  again,  "  don't  dwell 
on  it  all  so  terribly — don't — " 

"How  can  I  forget?"  she  answered,  despair- 
ingly. "And  then," — she  lowered  her  voice, — 
"  oh,  I  can't  tell  you — all  the  time,  at  the  back  of 
my  mind  somewhere,  there  was  a  burning  wish  that 
he  might  die.  I  used  to  lie  awake  at  night,  and, 
do  what  I  would  to  stifle  it,  that  thought  used  to 
scorch  me,  I  wished  it  so  intensely.  Do  you  be- 
lieve that  by  willing  one  can  bring  such  things  to 
pass? "  she  asked,  looking  at  Broomhurst  with 
feverishly  bright  eyes.  "  No?  Well,  I  don't  know. 
I  tried  to  smother  it, — I  really  tried, — but  it  was 
there,  whatever  other  thoughts  I  heaped  on  the 
top.  Then,  when  I  heard  the  horse  galloping 
across  the  plain  that  morning,  I  had  a  sick  fear 
that  it  was  you.  I  knew  something  had  happened, 
and  my  first  thought  when  I  saw  you  alive  and 


190  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

well,  and  knew  that  it  was  John,  was  that  it  was 
too  good  to  be  true.  I  believe  I  laughed  like  a 
maniac,  did  n't  I?  .  .  .  Not  to  blame?  Why,  if 
it  had  n't  been  for  me  he  would  n't  have  died. 
The  men  say  they  saw  him  sitting  with  his  head 
uncovered  in  the  burning  sun,  his  face  buried  in 
his  hands — just  as  I  had  seen  him  the  day  before. 
He  did  n't  trouble  to  be  careful;  he  was  too 
wretched." 

She  paused,  and  Broomhurst  rose  and  began  to 
pace  the  little  hillside  path  at  the  edge  of  which 
they  were  seated. 

Presently  he  came  back  to  her. 

"  Kathleen,  let  me  take  care  of  you,"  he  im- 
plored, stooping  toward  her.  "  We  have  only  our- 
selves to  consider  in  this  matter.  Will  you  come 
to  me  at  once?  " 

She  shook  her  head  sadly. 

Broomhurst  set  his  teeth,  and  the  lines  round 
his  mouth  deepened.  He  threw  himself  down  be- 
side her  on  the  heather. 

"  Dear,"  he  urged,  still  gently,  though  his  voice 
showed  he  was  controlling  himself  with  an  effort, 
"  you  are  morbid  about  this.  You  have  been  alone 
too  much ;  you  are  ill.  Let  me  take  care  of  you ; 
I  can,  Kathleen, — and  I  love  you.  Nothing  but 
morbid  fancy  makes  you  imagine  you  are  in  any 
way  responsible  for — Drayton's  death.  You  can't 
bring  him  back  to  life,  and — " 

"  No,"  she  sighed,  drearily,  "  and  if  I  could, 
nothing  would  be  altered.  Though  I  am  mad 


THY  HEART'S  DESIRE.  191 

with  self-reproach,  I  feel  that — it  was  all  so  inev- 
itable. If  he  were  alive  and  well  before  me  this 
instant,  my  feeling  toward  him  would  n't  have 
changed.  If  he  spoke  to  me  he  would  say  'my 
dear'— and  I  should  loathe  him.  Oh,  I  know!  It 
is  that  that  makes  it  so  awful." 

"  But  if  you  acknowledge  it,"  Broomhurst  struck 
in,  eagerly,  "  will  you  wreck  both  of  our  lives  for 
the  sake  of  vain  regrets?  Kathleen,  you  never 
will." 

He  waited  breathlessly  for  her  answer. 

"  I  won't  wreck  both  our  lives  by  marrying 
again  without  love  on  my  side,"  she  replied,  firmly. 

"  I  will  take  the  risk,"  he  said.  "  You  have  loved 
me ;  you  will  love  me  again.  You  are  crushed  and 
dazed  now  with  brooding  over  this — this  trouble, 
but—" 

"  But  I  will  not  allow  you  to  take  the  risk," 
Kathleen  answered.  "  What  sort  of  woman  should 
I  be  to  be  willing  again  to  live  with  a  man  I  don't 
love?  I  have  come  to  know  that  there  are  things 
one  owes  to  one's  self.  Self-respect  is  one  of  them. 
I  don't  know  how  it  has  come  to  be  so,  but  all  my 
old  feeling  for  you  has  gone.  It  is  as  though  it 
had  burned  itself  out.  I  will  not  offer  gray  ashes 
to  any  man." 

Broomhurst,  looking  up  at  her  pale,  set  face, 
knew  that  her  words  were  final,  and  turned  his  own 
aside  with  a  groan. 

"  Ah,"  cried  Kathleen,  with  a  little  break  in  her 
voice,  "  don't!  Go  away,  and  be  happy  and  strong, 


192  THY  HEART'S  DESIRE. 

and  all  that  I  loved  in  you.  I  am  so  sorry — so 
sorry  to  hurt  you.  I — "  her  voice  faltered  miser- 
ably;  "I — I  only  bring  trouble  to  people." 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"  Did  you  never  think  that  there  is  a  terrible 
vein  of  irony  running  through  the  ordering  of  this 
world?  "  she  said,  presently.  "  It  is  a  mistake  to 
think  our  prayers  are  not  answered — they  are.  In 
due  time  we  get  our  heart's  desire — when  we  have 
ceased  to  care  for  it." 

"  I  have  n't  yet  got  mine,"  Broomhurst  answered, 
doggedly,  "  and  I  shall  never  cease  to  care  for  it." 

She  smiled  a  little,  with  infinite  sadness. 

"  Listen,  Kathleen,"  he  said.  They  had  both 
risen,  and  he  stood  before  her,  looking  down  at 
her.  "  I  will  go  now,  but  in  a  year's  time  I  shall 
come  back.  I  will  not  give  you  up.  You  shall 
love  me  yet." 

"Perhaps — I  don't  think  so,"  she  answered, 
wearily. 

Broomhurst  looked  at  her  trembling  lips  a 
moment  in  silence ;  then  he  stooped  and  kissed 
both  her  hands  instead. 

"  I  will  wait  till  you  tell  me  you  love  me,"  he 
said. 

She  stood  watching  him  out  of  sight.  He  did 
not  look  back,  and  she  turned  with  swimming  eyes 
to  the  gray  sea  and  the  transient  gleams  of  sunlight 
that  swept  like  tender  smiles  across  its  face. 


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